Thursday, October 1, 2015

Not Really Ready for Some Football

Dear John,
 
I'm exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally exhausted. And my feet are killing me. And the Steelers are playing the Hated Ravens right now. I won't be up much longer.
 
Monday we got unpacked and moved in as much as we could, and got the bank ready for the new building to open on Tuesday. And Tuesday was The Day from Hell. It started when the internal phone system in LaGrange went down. Not only could we not call them; we had to re-route all phone calls to us. We had two people working all day helping people move their safety deposit boxes to the new building and one pulled to the Shipshewana office, so we were down three people. We had two days' work to do since we'd been closed on Monday. Nobody knew where anything was and there were a few technical glitches. We survived. They fed us pizza. We won't move into a new building again in my lifetime. I'm glad.
 
Wednesday was much better. We're still opening several drawers before we find what we're looking for, but it's getting better. At least the phone system was back up. And I figured out why my feet hurt so bad. We have the same carpet we did in the old building, but that was on a wood floor and this is on concrete. And our padded floor mats haven't been moved over. I plan to go get mine tomorrow, since I'm still the only one who has to work standing.
 
Tomorrow will be our grand opening, and a Friday. I'm expecting to get slammed. But we will survive, and after Saturday we'll have the first week under our belts. Oh, and we're having nights down to 40, so today I closed the house and turned on the heat. It hasn't run yet, but it will later tonight. I wanted you to know that I turned it on before there was ice on the walls. Be proud of me.
 
I'm off to bed now. I'll report in tomorrow if I'm not too exhausted to talk. I've had so much to tell you every night this week, but have been too tired to be coherent. I've just needed to cuddle up and go to sleep on your shoulder. After you rub my feet. Come by in about half an hour?
 
Adore you,
Joan.

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