This is another in a series of posts called Occupy Life. Each day you and I occupy physical time and space and we make our statement big and bold, whether we've got picket signs or not. Read here or here or here or here or the original post here for more. "And this machine - whoa. I gotta take a minute." Pause to breathe, "This machine is so amazing. It could probably cut through... a whole body (which would never happen because this protective plastic part has to be down). Seriously." Ryan stares at me, midway through my "training" at the copy shop, so that the magnificence of this cutting machine sinks in. "Yeah?" "It's just that, well, I think this is my favorite machine in this whole place." Pause. "Look at this huge stack of cardstock... we're gonna cut it." Pause for effect, "Are you ready?" Pause, "Oh, this is so great!" He pushes green buttons, the guide moves, then the blade, and then ... slice. "Ah! Wasn't that amazing? Whew! I could like go run laps that was such a rush!"
Meet my new friend and co-worker Ryan. A more delightful first day of training I have never had - his excitment oozed about everything from invoices to the newest printer - the 9000. I was immediately swept up into the banter and decided that we would be friends.
I typed my last email at my first job at about 2:55, rushed to pick up the obligatory black polo shirt for my second job at the copy shop and in between let the dog out for a quick romp, cleaned up the kitchen, and grabbed an apple for the road. Always moving, always learning, and always occupying this space called life.
As I was learning my way around the computer stations and printers, my friendly new co-workers shook off any first day nerves I had. And, I'm going to be honest, Ryan gave my awkward identity a run for its money. I'm not sure how this works, but awkward fits really well for him. I didn't think his excitement about the cutting machine weird at all - instead, I kept trying to find reasons why he might need to show me again.
At one point, during the the explanation of all the paper types, he stepped up onto a cardboard box. From his perch, he continued without pause until I said, "Um, are you on your own little platform, there?" "Yeah, I kind of like it."
And that was that. I didn't mind.
When Ryan thought I'd had enough training, I left for the night. I didn't need to turn on the radio on the way home, I was still amused by the copy shop goings-on when I pulled into the driveway.
Then, round 3 of amusement began. My cousin Vince is always ready to hash out philosophy or politics or religion - pretty much all the topics that people are supposed to stay away from we hit head on. And I love it.
Tonight, we tackled the Christian message of "don't," country music, and pancake batter, amongst other things. The pancake batter is for tomorrow morning, but he thought we'd pull out Aunt Shirley's recipe and save some morning rush. Well, turns out our approach to conversation is like our approach to cooking: completely different. Vince is super methodical and I'm a loose canon. I under-melted the butter and only partially measured the baking powder. Every time I turned around he was gesturing wildly and sighing about my lack of precision. "There are recipes for a reason, Caroline." Well, I'm not saying that any of my recipes can ever be replicated, but just to test things out I suggested we make a pancake tonight (chunky butter and mysterious baking powder and all). It worked. I could be making it up, but I think Vince even said with an approving nod, "It's good."
Today happened, every minute of it. I wouldn't subtract a moment and that's good because, well, I can't.
I'm occupying life.
let LOVE fly like cRaZy