So in the new version of life I work in an office where they have lots of office jargon for different day-to-day things. I am sure I am not alone there.
One of my favorites is the concept of “Change Management.”
When someone is very used to doing things one way and then they are brought into a new situation (like when we start with a new client,) there are bound to be some differences.
Change Management is all about helping make that transition a smooth one.
The need for this translates heavily to life OUTSIDE of the office for Keri and family right now.
About 80% of the time I feel like Moses in Exodus 2 – a Stranger in a strange land indeed. I hope I hide the confusion I walk around in better than it feels like I do.
Every time I pull up to a business and park, sometimes DIRECTLY in front of it, and leave my car, I am overcome with the concept that there is so much parking, and that I don’t even have to pay – not even a tiny bit – for it.
Random people I don’t know keep saying hi or waiving to me when I pass during dog walks and as I come and go from the neighborhood in my car. Change Management = me not giving them the side eye and crossing the street, but instead waiving back. Even super early in the morning before coffee. Seriously.
Sidebar – The one thing I actually refuse to work towards changing is my expectation of behavior from Cooper surrounding adults. Suburban children seem pretty oblivious to the concept of “Stranger Danger,” and I am totally dismayed by this. Kids whose parents/caregivers are nowhere in sight frequently approach me and ask to pet my dog. THEY say hi as they pass me. Um, no. You don’t know me. I really want to believe that I can have faith that it will take more than a cute puppy to get Jr. to throw caution to the wind. Scary.
Back to the lighter side of things, though. Because I feel compelled to express the shock and confusion I felt when, while visiting the neighborhood grocery store, I spied a sign conveying the store’s opening and closing hours.
WHAT? Grocery Stores don’t close. EVER.
Granted, the joint is open until like midnight or something, and goodness knows I haven’t gone to the grocery past like 9pm in years, but the point is that I knew I could. Now I can’t –and I feel lost in the knowledge of that.
Speaking of timing – I tootled off to my first suburban girls’ happy hour last night, arriving at 5:00 (and parking for free right in front,) at the local wine bar. I was one of two tables in that place until around 6:00. No wonder no one else in my potential group of HH cohorts seemed concerned about it. Gone are the days of racing like a freak job from the office just after 4:00 to secure a table at the local watering hole before it fills up completely by 5:00. I bet on nicer days I will actually be able to wander in at like 5:30 and have my pick of tables on the patio – restaurant real estate that got eaten up in the city by the token “work from home” folks who secured space around 3:00 in the afternoon and camped in their sunny spots, place holding for friends who trickle in later to join.
Clearly being able to actually sit down at Happy Hour without sending an advance team in 2 hours early is a good thing – but it still presents a change in expectation, for sure.
One thing I think I do have figured out is dealing with the creepy quiet at night. When you are used to living on a street frequented by departing patrons from the various bars in the ‘hood, ambulances with screaming sirens, and the large group of Harley riders who lived in the building diagonally from ours; the night-time quiet of the suburbs can be maddening. I swear the first night out here I was laying in bed and it was so quiet I heard the neighbor’s dog fart half a block away.
I have solved this issue (and also the issue of The Hub’s occasional snoring, as a bonus,) by connecting earbuds to Jr’s video monitor and cranking up the volume so I can share his super loud white noise machine.
Ahhhh, sweet, noisy slumber, just like Junior likes. Like mother, like son.
Change Management, people – I am all about it now.