55

Rita

Monday morning. I'm awake way earlier than I need to be—four on the dot—but I can't get back to sleep.

It's the first day of a new job.

I'm nervous. I'd be crazy if I weren't at least a little bit nervous. The first day should be the easiest though—they won't expect me to do anything serious, not until I'm acclimated with the office, with the basic stuff like email and logging into the computer and all that crap.

I'll meet my coworkers, my bosses. I'll smile, make small talk, try to fit in.

And for some reason, I'm terrified.

I take a shower to calm my nerves. I get out and spend the next half hour second-guessing my outfit choice, parading one work-appropriate blouse around toward different work-appropriate slacks and skirts, trying to get just the right shoes. After a solid hour, I'm too tired to keep messing around and end up on a simple navy-and-gray ensemble. I'll get a feel for what the rest of the office wears and match a little bit better next time, but this should be fin