New column today, and new commuter story
The column today is all about being a good kisser. Some people really aren’t, and if you want to send someone a hint, pass this one along.
So . . . yesterday morning as I’m going to catch the el, I flashed my Chicago card at the turnstyle, and somehow I sort of tripped over the turnstyle — or something. Whatever I did, I ended up sort of stradding the turnstyle, but not before the thing could crash into my knee.
Fortunately, I was there so early that there wasn’t a group of people there to laugh at me, but I cursed so loud when I hurt my knee that the ticket agent leaned over in her booth and looked at me as if I were an idiot, and asked if I was okay. I said that I was fine, as I limped up the stairs. My knee still hurts. I’m going to try not to replicate that acrobatic act today.
Work is still going well. My partners aren’t really that concerned about what I’m doing all day. I think I spent a total of 10 minutes with both of them. I’m really trying hard to hit the ground running and be as productive as possible. It’s weird, though. Either they trust me, or don’t care about what I’m doing with my door closed all day. I’ve been getting the paranoid feeling that one day they’re going to wake up and realize that, by hiring me, they’ve made a grave error in judgment. 
Well . . . it’s garbage day, which means I need to run. I must purge before those dashing men in their blue truck show up.
