I’ve spent the last three weeks developing new skill sets.
First: desk building.
Unfortunately, my expertise is based around a particular combination of desk and cubicle pieces from 1974. So if you need a desk made out of pieces from 1982, I’m afraid I can’t help you.
Remembering my extreme joy at having my own desk at the office, I’ve taken great pride and pleasure in assembling desks for the team that moved into our office yesterday (more than doubling our office population.) And somehow I became one of a two-person team during the move-in process who was in charge of rearranging the desks to each person’s particular liking.
That meant a lot of, “Pull your chair up and tell me how high you want it.”
“Are your arms at a 45 degree angle?”
“Shelf over there or here?”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”
“Really. I don’t mind.”
And holding up desk pieces while my coworker crawled under them to guide them into place.
And because I love helping people and putting things together, it was glorious fun.
But today my right thigh is polka-dotted with little bruises and my shoulder feels like someone tased me repeatedly (although I admittedly have no idea what that actually feels like.)
Oh well. It’s the price I pay for enjoying my job, I suppose.
I’m not talking about big-girl diapers (although I bet I could master those too.)
I’m talking about going from feet on the floor, arms straight up, to chin over the bar, feet dangling.
I can do them.
I know. I was just as startled as you are.
But now my hands are stiff and my shoulder feels like someone tased me repeatedly.
It’s the price I pay for enjoying my gym, I suppose.
I’m pretty sure that none of you will ever benefit from either of these skills. But I still thought you should know, just in case. Because you can’t never always sometimes tell.