THE PUBLIC SHELF

Open in one year

One year ago today you started the new job, and you threw up in the parking garage before walking in. Level three, next to the blue pillar. I'm telling you this so you never pretend it was easy.

I'm writing this tonight, after day one. My feet hurt. I didn't understand half the acronyms in the all hands meeting. I said my own name wrong when I introduced myself, which I didn't know was possible. I ate lunch alone at my desk because I didn't know where people went.

But here's the thing. At 4:30, a woman named Priya came by my desk and said, the first month is a mess for everyone, you're doing fine. And I almost cried, because she didn't have to do that.

So here's what I hope for you, one year in.

I hope you're not scared of your boss anymore.

I hope you know everyone's name, and they know yours.

I hope you found a real lunch spot, somewhere with a window.

I hope you've been Priya for someone else. Someone new, someone sitting alone at their desk, pretending to read their email.

And if it all went wrong, if you left or got let go, that's okay too. You've started over before. You know how.

Me, day one

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