Head a 'splode

So the new job, right?

It's extremely strange to me to be in the corporate world. The last time I didn't work for a non-profit organization was also the last time I had a dress code, which was in high school. I worked for a department store. That was a completely different experience than this.

I have my own desk, and it is huge. I have a brand-new computer, and flat-screen monitor, and my own printer, and a work cell phone (I could have gotten a Razr, but I don't like them). Tomorrow I will ship out approximately $15,000 worth of computer parts for an RMA, and in turn, order about $20k more. And no one will bat an eye. I, I, have power. I make things happen. I make things happen quickly.

The budget is a concern, and everyone wants to make sure that the company stays in a good place, but money, really, is not an object. We need it for the business? Great, order it. No months of justifying even minor expenses. No wrangling for non-existent funds. No dealing with half-broken, jimmied equipment that's worse than the stuff I buy for personal use - no more working from home because my laptop is better and more reliable than any computer in the organization.

It's craziness. I still walk around a little bit dazed sometimes at work, when I realize that I'm doing half the work (if that) for twice as much money. That's what kills me the most. The easy, easy crap I'm doing right now is worth, in this society, twice as much as the vital and brutal work I was doing with kids just a few weeks ago. How fucked up is that?

I'd say that I don't know what to do about it, but I do. I, of course, am the Woman with a Plan. I am going to work that bitch for every fucking dime that I can, and sock away money like there's no tomorrow, to finance my next foray into the undervalued and overworked field of social work, so that maybe people who actually do important stuff get paid for it.

And save some children too, you know.