Wish I Were Here

Today is my graduation day. After three weeks of snoring through new banker class, I will receive my "diploma" and a pizza before being reassigned to the call center, or, as I call it, the lions' den.
Our trainer is very good, but I have discovered anew that I am not an auditory learner. Never have been. I am a visual learner. I remember things when my brain captures an associative image and records it for later use. The sound of a person's voice, any voice, but especially one with a nasal droning tone, just sends me off. Off into the wild blue yonder. If I have had caffeine and am sufficiently rested, I may be able to hang in there with a lot of effort and focus, but it's a challenge.
And that's what I keep telling myself. This experience is a challenge and a moment in time. This entry into the banking world is the bottom rung of a ladder I can choose to dismount at any time; or I can choose to climb it to a more exciting and fulfilling level. That choice has yet to be determined.
Back to the learning process, I was journaling this morning and trying to think of ways I would improve the training process. I started to write "more writing exercises demanding more product review," but then I realized we have been given those assignments and I never take advantage of the opportunities to delve more into the product details. I get those assignments, and just race through them, writing out the bare minimum answers to get a passing score. It's just like school. I never wanted to be there unless I was distracting people and getting some sort of attention from the teacher, good or bad. Funny how some things never change.
Yesterday, we all spent time on the call center floor. That's bank lingo for taking customer calls. It doesn't mean we were all sprawled out on the floor; though I would have been okay with that. Anyway, I got to listen in on some phone calls. My favorite was from a teenager, born in 1990 (!!!), who wanted a $2000 unsecured loan (for no apparent reason). She worked part-time and earned $4000 a year. And I thought my income was meager! Strangely, her request was declined.
I can remember the humorous details of that call. But can I recall where to find APRs on our credit cards? Heck, no.
Here's what I can recall.
Last weekend, T and I walked down to the north park blocks to attend Art In the Pearl. The day started cool and sunny, but there were clouds coming in. We did not take the threat of rain seriously as we have begun to think that rain is an urban myth here. We have had nothing but warm, sometimes hot, weather since arriving eight weeks ago.
As we walked through the park taking in the unique and beautiful artwork, the cloud cover became heavier and it started to sprinkle. Then it started to POUR. And when it pours here, it's not like California where it stops after five minutes because the sky has run out of water. It continues for hours. Well, this particular rain wasn't touching us because we were walking under a shelter of high tree branches. As we strolled, we looked up, and, through the openings between the trees, we saw sunlight shining on the rain as it came down on top of the artists' tents and the uncovered ground. It was gorgeous. It was a sight I don't remember ever seeing. It was uniquely Portland. When I witness that kind of beauty, my senses are awakened and I can't help but smile. That's the reason we came here. That's what will keep me going when I am in my cubicle taking calls. I may be physically removed from anything beautiful; but, in my imaginative little pea-brain, you can bet I will be dancing in the park under the branches of the tall trees sheltered from the rain.