Jess Thoughts

Today felt like one of those days that will probably stay with me for a long time — the kind where everything is ordinary on the surface, but underneath you can feel your life quietly shifting direction.

I got the job and have been busy. It is an incredible place. Oh, what am I doing there? Well, this is funny, last time I said I would take a job in the mail room. So, yes, you guessed it — it is in the mail room.

And honestly? I love it more than I expected to.

There is something comforting about starting at the literal ground floor. No expectations, no spotlight, just learning the rhythms of the building — the morning rush of deliveries, the quiet hum of sorting machines, the small nods from people who have worked there for years and can do everything with their eyes half-closed. I like being the observer for once. You learn a lot about people by what packages they send and how urgently they wait for them.

Lunch was unexpectedly nice. I almost ate alone — I even had my container open and was mentally preparing for a quiet scroll through emails — when two women from accounting asked if they could sit with me. Within minutes we were laughing like we had known each other longer than an hour. One of them just moved here from out of state and doesn’t know anyone yet, which made me feel oddly less like “the new girl” and more like we were all starting fresh together. We ended up talking about everything from terrible office coffee to favorite hiking spots and where to find decent produce that doesn’t taste like cardboard.

I think I may have made my first real friends here. That feels bigger than the job itself.

The only downside today — my feet. I knew it would happen. I have built my entire wardrobe, and maybe even my identity, around heels. They make me feel composed, intentional, a little taller in every sense. But running between departments, standing on concrete floors, and navigating endless corridors is not exactly what stilettos were designed for. By mid-afternoon I was calculating every step like it cost money.

At one point I seriously considered stopping by a store on the way home and buying flats. Sensible ones. Soft ones. The kind of shoes that say “I value comfort and practicality.” I even imagined how easy tomorrow would feel gliding through the halls without wincing.

And then I realized something — the heels aren’t just shoes to me. They are part of how I show up in the world. A small daily promise to myself to stay polished even when no one is really looking. So I decided I’ll keep them… maybe just choose slightly kinder ones. Progress, not surrender.

Walking out of the building at the end of the day, the sky already turning that soft evening gray-blue, I felt tired in the best way. Not drained — earned. Like I had placed a tiny brick in the foundation of whatever comes next.

It’s strange. A mail room job wasn’t exactly the grand plan. But right now, it feels like exactly where I’m supposed to be.