Searching for My Lost Salt Shaker of Salt

Looking around the table last night, I was stuck by how many different personalities were meshing quite well. My current co-workers not only get along, but seem to actually like each other. Somehow I fit into this puzzle of personalities, if only for a short time, and the fit is quite comfortable. Missing are the undercurrents of unhappiness and the knowledge that the two people across from you were complaining about the other just before the dinner. I genuinely liked my coworkers at MCG, but they didn't always like each other and, as clueless as I am, I was always marginally aware of this fact.

Here at USH everyone pulls their share pretty evenly. I haven't seen obvious star treatment given to anyone, though the comment "you're contract, what are you worried about" was stated within my hearing. Despite the statement, no one seems all that fussed about the contract workers on the surface. Maybe as I delve into this job and grow to know the nuances of local politics this perception may change, but so far I'm blissfully unaware.

All that I DO know is that I know NOTHING. ---Socrates

All that I know is that I ate sushi with a group of coworkers in an Irish bar with Guiness and noone seemed to acknowledge the strangeness of it. There was no snobbery towards the mix. Most people ate the sushi and endamame with relish-- I tried for months to get someone to eat sushi in Augusta with people and only my good buddy Adrienne ever joined me. She would fit on this staff. At one point I looke across at Rachel and broke her boredom by balancing a salt shaker on its edge. Soon little puddles of salt were appearing all over the table with wobbling salt shakers popping up from no where-- I swear they were stealing them from other tables. Everyone seemed content when I simply answered "college" when asked where I learned such a trick. This is definetly a group that would find Elmstreet attractive.

I also know that next time I get invited to Happy Hour I will either go home and change, pick up a purse and dancing shoes, or I will bring these things to work. I really wanted to discover the Baltimore night life last night, but I was cognizant of the fact that not only was I still in my stuffy work clothes and tennis shoes, but I was completely out of food and toilet paper at home and there was 8-12 inches of snow arriving any time from Saturday morning to Sunday evening. So to the grocery store I went, picking through the devestated bread aisle and finding TP on sale. Then I stood in line for 30 minutes with people who were obviously trying to encite a panic with their grocery cart filled to the brim with canned corn and peas and their talk about being "snowed in for a week". It made me nervous until I realized I work for a HOSPITAL- all I gotta do is show up to work and buy bunches of cafeteria food... then again I may be better off with canned corn and peas.

To answer Smitty, no word from the passing friend I met two Wednesdays ago. Maybe he's busy saving lives? Or maybe he's a creep who offers to show a lady around town and then disappears. (Of course, maybe he's busy walling his latest victim into the wall after ax-murdering her.) It was still a good conversation over beer, and no one can change that.