By this time next week, I should have enough of an understanding of my job that I could technically start working from home more often than not.

And "technically" is the key word in that sentence, because I probably will still be working from the main office, even though there’s no technical reason I should. This is because Devin, my boss, has given me a couple tasks he wants me to start working on that don’t have much to do with my job description.

First, he’s asked me to start calling to his attention what he calls "substantial abuse" of the company’s generous open-Internet policy. Which is to say, right now there are no blocks on any sites here, and Devin wants to know who’s screwing around too much.

Which means, incidentally, that from now on whenever I am at work and doing non-work surfing, I will do it using my personal laptop and a Verizon Wireless Aircard. I wouldn’t want anyone spying on me like that.

Anyway, the other task Devin has given me is to start getting to know some of my fellow employees. He says that I keep to myself too much. he also says I ought to keep a lookout for "disloyal behavior."

In other words, I am Devin’s personal rat. Just what I always wanted.

So today I made a point of introducing myself to two people in the company. First was Stan. Stan answered every question I asked him without giving additional detail, and he never asked me corresponding questions. In other words, he didn’t observe the rules of office chatter that even I know and obey. When I asked him how he liked working here (just following orders), he said, "It’s a really excellent job. Definitely the best place I have ever worked. I especially like Devin’s innovative approach to business."

It sounded rehearsed. Like I wasn’t the first guy he’s answered that question to.

Mary, the other worker I talked to, freaked me out. I never even got to my standard non-invasive questions. As soon as I told her my name and shook her hand, she did this intrusive intentional eye contact thing and said with a big smile, "Do you love Jesus?"

"What?" I asked. I couldn’t have been more surprised if instead of saying that, she had flicked me on the nose.

"Do you love Jesus?" she asked.

By now my fight-or-flight response was in full effect.

"I guess so." It wasn’t a bad response, considering how little time I had to prepare it. Not enthusiastic, but also not an outright denial. Stay low key and disengage.

"I have some literature you might enjoy," she said.

"Right now I need to get back to work. I’ll talk to you later," I replied, then pivoted and left.

I know that no matter what, I am going to have to dodge Mary whenever I see her from now on.