Two weeks is about right, isn't it?

You could say that the honeymoon is over.  After one week on the job, a situation arose at work, for which I had to do a disciplinary action.  After two weeks in Tulsa, I was awakened (it wasn't 2:00 a.m. this time; it was 11:45 p.m.) by my first Tornado Warning.

At this point, my coworkers agree that I'm cursed.  They think that it's the hotel which has cursed me (one hit the nail on the head by saying, "Communal living isn't for you, huh?"), so they are reviewing my apartment search list to leave comments for me, so that I can settle the matter and get out of here and into my own place.  They think my life (or at least my sleep pattern) will benefit.

You know, perhaps the end of the Noog's drought and the possible end of Oklahoma's drought are my fault after all.  It might well be that I'm an anti-tech wizard, but relocating me throws off whatever balance I had had in the past, sending my signals out unregulated and making everything go haywire.

That is so logical and reasonable, it's scary.