Answering machines have always terrified me. They’re composed of the pressure to fill an empty space that we feel during an awkward pause in conversation or when staring at a blank Word document with an assignment due, but instead with limited time to do it in. I’m sure a lot of my fellow introverts will understand the other component: once you’ve said it into the answering machine, it can’t be erased. Your ums and uhs and awkward ramblings are preserved and floating in the ether, inaccessible to you but available for your professional acquaintance or the person you want to date (or whoever else, as long as you’re trying to impress them) to play again, and again, and again.

They probably don’t, rationally speaking, but we aren’t talking about rationality here. I put off making calls not because I’m worried about talking to the person, but because I’m afraid of going to voicemail.

I have to leave a lot of voicemails right now because I’ve moved on from the planning stage and into the preparation stage of the loan closet program overhaul. I find it hard to believe that I’m about to finish up week 6, but I feel like I’m exactly where I should be, answering machines aside. A lot of my time now involves feeling other organizations out and a lot of educated guesswork – are they open to a partnership? what would this business charge us for space? what do they want from us? what will this change, and will everyone at the ALSA go for it or will there be resistance?

This is much more cerebral work than what I’ve done in my previous jobs and for my social work field placement. I’m getting experience with cost-benefit analysis, with accounting and with data interpretation and customer satisfaction. It’s a grounding in business that my education has lacked so far, and I’m not terrible at it even if it doesn’t come as intuitively to me as knowing what to say to a patient (and even if there’s a little more anxiety involved). My accountant dad would be proud.