Working like reggalar people

Yesterday, the alarm by the bed woke me up, I shaved and showered, put my uniform on, kissed the baby and wife as she handed me my tea, and commuted to work in bumper-to-bumper traffic along Route 1.
It's all just so frickin' weird.
I reported to the new Defense Threat Reduction Center, the new HQ for the Defense Threat Reduction Agency, a worldwide organization that administratively falls under the Office of the Secretary of Defense for Acquisition, Technology & Logistics. I'm in the OSS division, which deals with the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty (START) -- my particular branch, OSSM, is the "Monitoring" branch, which has a permanent presence (rotating personnel) at a complex next to a rocket production site in Votkinsk, Russia, to ensure whatever they produce is allowed per the START. This is as much as I know in the first 48 hours. But I do know that our whole branch is also part of an "enterprise" called 'Operations', so our official office symbol, OP-OSSM, has left us with a rather curious mascot.

I've only met a few of my office mates, mostly Majors and Lt Colonels/Commanders, with a lot of folks TDY. I've been mostly finishing up paperwork and in-processing to get my computer accounts activated, clothing issued, pens sharpened, etc. I have a bunch of stuff to read, and then start a four-day "Phase I" training in Reston, up the road a spell, next week. For now, I'm just trying to get the lay of the six-story Taj Mahal-like land, figure out how the motion-activated water fountains work, steer clear of the robot mail carts that freak me the heck out, and just revel in the fact that I get to go home every night.