pirates and the good arrr arrrr!

SBN is a complicated place.

complicated in the sense that people can be so positively nice, so charmingly political, so genuinely warm and, on occasion, so politely nasty. i don't understand just how that can be possible, but i suppose one can be vile and nasty at the same time, since nobody said it cannot be done.

and on my side, i watch it all. people try, oh they do, to be nice, but sometimes there will come one person who will raise your hackles just by breathing in the same air you do. maybe i was one of those, to others.

i, thankfully, don't tend to have that problem, for i had long since understood that if i hated something i would have to live with it. so now i thank The Lord Almighty for my sometimes-bad memory: if i didn't forgive the day's slights i'd have forgotten them come day three.

so. now that i'm in a politically-complicated office, i suppose here's where the meagre "training" i had in my previous workplace will have to carry me through, though i suspect it will be my unwillingness to get involved with office politics and my (hopefully) winsome smile that will get me categorised as "safer than sheep".

i came in here, not quite knowing what to expect. i only knew it felt right.

...now that i'd boarded the pirateship, it dawned upon me that i hadn't thoroughly tested the waters before jumped.

a friend mentioned, during a conversation after i had joined this company, that a mutual friend of ours worked here once but couldn't take the whatever and had left soon after. considering she was quite er, political (a nice way of saying she's a scheming byatch) - if she didn't survive i don't quite see how i can.

plus the funky stumbles i had been through, i certainly had some doubts.


but then... so what if it were tough? if it were tough, even if it were tough, especially if it were tough – i have to survive. because there is no other way to be better.

what, quit the kitchen when it gets too hot? if it got too hot then i must have forgotten my mitten!


the shame, if i didn't survive! who cares whether if i'm a young whelp or not? others don't, so why should i? and if they did, i'm thankful but i don't have the time to learn how to swim when i'm drowning. i'd better learn when they're still kind, i felt.

nobody will remember 'the chick who was here, i can't remember her name'. i want to be remembered, i will be remembered. and i sure as hell want to be remembered in a good way. they don't have to like me but they'll have to admire me.

so there. two months and a little bit, dodging flak, using good sense as a guide.

it gets scary sometimes, being new and ignorant. maybe this is how it feels like for everyone, the only difference being how people handle.

and here's hoping i will have that grace when i'm under fire.