Category Archives: My True Life

Apr16

Suddenly Things Are Happening Really Fast

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Last week I sent an email to the woman I am hoping to work for this summer. I asked if she had received the latest round of paperwork I’d sent to her. I also asked if she had decided when I needed to report for training.

I realized on Monday that I hadn’t heard from her, and on Tuesday I called the office. Her assistant answered the phone. I asked about the paperwork. Yes, it had arrived. I asked if the boss had decided when I should arrive for training. She replied, May 4th, as if the date were something I had known all along.

May 4th? The upcoming May 4th? Nineteen days away May 4th?

I stammered, a bit, I think. Last time we spoke, I reminded her, the boss thought it was going to be later in May. I asked if she were sure the training for my group was going to start on May 4th. Oh, yes, she assured me. The boss had decided she didn’t want to do training any later than that.

Then the woman I was talking to told me the boss was out for the rest of the week, but she’d be back on Monday (April 20). She said I could call the boss on Monday to get all the details. I’m assuming the boss woman was planning to call me on Monday and and tell me I needed to report to the forest in 2 weeks! I’m glad I called on Tuesday and got myself five extra days of knowledge.

I am totally overwhelmed that training on May 4th means I have to get on the road no later than May 2nd. (It’s a 10 hour drive, according to Yahoo Maps, so that probably means a twelve hour drive for me. What can I say? I have to stop to pee a lot. And since I do NOT want to drive twelve hours in one day, I have to leave on May 2nd.) I am totally overwhelmed with everything I need to do between now and then.

Want to see my to-do list?

Buy stamps (I’m hoping 100 postcard stamps and 50 first class stamps will get me through the summer. And by summer, I mean May 1st through Labor Day.)

Try to sell a pile of books at the used book store

Figure out how I am going to pay my phone bill while I am in the woods

Buy 5 money orders to pay monthly installments on a debt (Don’t even ask!)

Finish notifying friends of my summer address

Go through the rest of my clothes and get rid of what i don’t need

Have my transmission mount replaced (I actually have an appointment with my mechanic to do this next Wednesday.)

Buy food supplies for the summer (I have no idea what to buy or how much.)

Buy other supplies (Dr. Bronner’s soap, paper towels, toilet paper, zipper bags, squirt bottles for dish washing system, oh, and don’t forget the laundry soap)

Buy Luci light(s) (How many do I need? Is one enough?)

Wipe out ice chest (I hope it’s not gross. It wasn’t gross last time I opened it, but that was a while ago.)

Get back slider window for van (Ohhh! I’ve been putting that off 8 months! I should have taken care of that 6 months ago!)

Pay insurance on van

Look into new tires for van (That’s going to cost a lot! I’m so overwhelmed!)

Buy bear whistle (I have to remember that when I go to Big 5 Sporting Goods for Luci light)

Try to get May 10th dental cleaning appointment rescheduled

Mail my friend’s August birthday present (or decide I can stash it somewhere in van until August)

Host little gathering for host family and friend family

Buy van supplies (oil, coolant, fuel cleaner)

Replace rusty screws holding on van topper to van

Of course, while I am trying to prepare for the summer, I am also working 8 hours a day, which looks like this:

Wake up at 5:15 am. Curse the state I am scoring responses for. Curse the students who wrote the responses. Curse the two characters the students are comparing in their responses.

Eat breakfast. Prepare lunch. Fill water bottles.

Get dressed. (Don’t forget to get dressed.) Brush teeth. Take glucosamine. (Oh shit! Add “Get glucosamine” to list.)

Leave house by 6:20 to get to work with time to park, put metallic sun shades in window, and be at my desk by 7am.

Sign in. Work. Look at clock.Try to stay awake. Work. Get distracted by coworkers moving around, chatting, coming and going. Look at watch. Work. Fantasize about banging my head against a brick wall. Work.Try to stay awake.Try to get comfortable in uncomfortable office chair. Work. Log out. Get up to pee. Sit back down. Log back in. Work. Look at clock. Work. Wonder if it’s too soon to get up and pee again. Look at clock. Work. Log out. Go on break. Eat granola bar. Sit back down. Log in. Work. Fantasize about banging my head against a wall of ice. Work. Look at watch. Log out. Get up to pee. Sit back down. Log in. Try to get comfortable. Wonder why the idiots all around me don’t whisper if they must speak. Work. Put head down on desk. Fantasize about repeatedly banging head on desk. Fantasize about shouting SHUT THE FUCK UP! at the top of my lungs. Work. Wonder if it’s almost lunch time. Look at clock. Sigh. Work. Try to stay awake. Work. Put my head in my hands. Sigh. Feel sad about the state of the world as it is reflected by the teenagers who wrote the responses I’ve been scoring. Sigh. Work. Hear my own stomach growl. Look at the clock. Notice lunch is in ten minutes. Sigh. Try to work. Feel antsy. Try to work. Sigh. Try to work. Log out. Go to lunch. Arrive back at my desk in precisely half an hour and repeat morning activities all afternoon.

Get off work at 3:30, feeling ravenous. Run errands if necessary. (Do I have enough gas to get to work in the morning?) Get home. Eat dinner. Check email. Wash dishes. Fill water bottle halfway and put in freezer. Try to write. Feel too tired to write. Try to control brain. Try to write. Notice it’s already after 7pm. Give up on brain. Give up on writing. Take a shower or decide I can go another day without a shower. Brush and floss teeth. Set alarm on phone. Read a novel until I’ve relaxed enough to sleep. Try to sleep. Try to shut off brain. Fall asleep.

So I guess what I need to do is make lists according to the next nineteen days. When will I go to the auto repair shop? When will I go to Discount Tires? When will I go to Trader Joe’s? When will I go to Big 5 Sporting Goods? When will I call the dental collage?

What am I forgetting? No, for real, what am I forgetting? PLEASE, leave a comment and tell me what I’m forgetting.


 
Apr14

Do You Come Here Often?

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I was at the laundromat on the north side of town.

I had actually finished doing my laundry. All of my clothes were clean, dry, folded, and back in the van. However, I had internet access at the laundromat, and I was waiting to see how an auction on Ebay would turn out. I was toggling between checking the status of the auction and playing solitaire.

A man I’d never seen before came into the laundromat. He was tall and a little chunky and had dark hair. He looked like a white guy to me. I didn’t find him particularly attractive. I wasn’t paying that much attention to him at first, although he was putting clothes into the washer nearest to where I was sitting. Then I noticed he was clearing his throat loudly and repeatedly. Either he had a nervous tic or something was stuck way down in his throat.

Once his clothes were in the washer, he walked toward me. He asked if I were bored a lot. I don’t know if he saw I was playing solitaire and assumed I was bored or if that was just his opening line. I said, “Oh no!” Then I told him just how busy I am, how I never have time to get bored. At that moment, my good-Southern-lady upbringing kicked in, and I asked, “How about you?”

Why did I do that? I did not care if he was often bored. I was not interested in conversing with him. I wanted to be on my way in six minutes, as soon as I knew the outcome of my auction. Yet, I engaged him in conversation. I guess that makes it my fault.

He told me that yes, indeed he was bored a lot. He said he’d just moved to town and didn’t have (m)any friends, so he often didn’t have anything to do.

Next he gestured at the empty chair next to me and asked if he could sit there. It was not the only empty chair in the laundromat, but since I am not the Queen of Chairs, what could I say? It was not my chair to withhold, so I said yes.

He sat down next to me and I SWEAR TO GOD (or any other deity of your choice), he said to me, “Do you come here often?”

I have to give him credit for using a pick up line that no one else had ever used on me.

My brain was on duty that day, because I shot right back to him, “Only when my clothes are dirty.”

It was one of my finest moments. It was one of my best comebacks ever. I was so proud of myself.

He was not deterred, however, because in mere moments he asked for my phone number, asked if he could call me some time.

Again, I was thinking quick because I said, “Um, no. I’m just not looking for any of that.”

By that time the auction had ended, and my computer was shutting down. I snapped my laptop shut, and ducked out the door, hoping he wouldn’t see what vehicle I hopped into as I made my escape.

Apr5

Starting a New Job

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Tomorrow I start my new temp job scoring student essays. Because I’ve worked this job twice before, I know that although it it is not a physically challenging job, it is mentally exhausting. I’ll spend 99% of my day sitting down, so my body won’t be worn out at the end of the day. However, after eight hours reading the writing of high school students (all papers on the same topic), and not only reading the essays, but trying to give each one the proper score, my brain will pretty much be mush.

When I worked this job before, all of the workers arrived at the same time, 7:30 or 8am (I can’t remember which, but early) and left at 4 or 4:30 in the afternoon. This time each worker can decide when he or she wants to come in. (Each worker has to pick a specific time and commit to arriving at that time every morning.) I’m considering arriving for work at the earliest time available so I can beat traffic and get one of the limited parking spaces.

Arriving early means getting up early, which means going to bed early. Sometimes when I’m working all day, I’m in bed with a book by 8pm, asleep by 9 o’clock.

I don’t know if I am going to have the energy to keep up with daily blog post. I’ll do my best, but no promises. I might just need to focus on getting myself through the next six weeks.

Apr3

All Moved In

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I moved into my temporary home yesterday afternoon.

The day was quite a whirlwind. My van was still in the shop, and I wasn’t sure when it would be ready to drive. The new housemate needed my share of the rent to pay the landlady who wanted the cash before she went on a trip to California. The Lady of the House was willing to drive me to pick up the van, but she had an early afternoon appointment of her own and had to pick up The Boy from school later in the afternoon.

It all worked out fairly smoothly. I talked to the mechanic around 10:30, and he assured me that the van would be ready by the afternoon. He even called me as promised later on when the work was complete. (This was the first time ever that a mechanic called me to let me know work on my vehicle was complete. I’ve always had to call the shop to find out the status of the job.)

Since I didn’t have transportation, my new housemate drove out to the home of the host family to pick up my share of the rent. I guess the landlady was really hounding him for it.

When The Lady got back from her appointment, we hopped into her car and zipped over to the auto repair shop. She dropped me off at the gate and zipped off to pick up The Boy. I paid for the repairs, and headed back to the home of the host family to pack the rest of my belongings into the van. I really wanted to be on the road before rush hour.

By “pack the rest of my belongings into the van,” I mean I threw the rest of my stuff in as quickly as possible. I was on the road a little before 4pm, so I just got the early bird rush hour and not the full-on, super-crowded rush hour. The driving was ok. I had my usual changing lane angst, but I did fine (meaning I was not involved in a crash of any kind).

My keys unlocked the doors of my new abode, which is always helpful.

Taking the advice of Judge Judy and the much nicer judge on The People’s Court, I took photos of the (very few) damaged items in my new room. There are some scuff marks on the wall, the door has some peeling paint and discoloration, wires are hanging out to the light fixture attachment on the ceiling fan. There’s no bad damage, but I want to have proof, just in case.

While he was picking up my rent money, the new housemate offered me the use of an extra mattress. After taking photos of the empty room, I dragged the mattress from the spare room into my bedroom and placed it in the corner next to the window. The bed looked quite inviting after I made it with my clean linens, but I stayed strong and did not lie down for a nap.

It was pretty hot in the house, but luckily, I found that the window opened. Unluckily, the window did not have a screen. Luckily, the screen was on the ground right outside the window. To get to the screen, I had to go through the kitchen and dining area, out the sliding glass door, through the back patio, and out another fence into the side yard. Whew! But there was the screen. I got it back into the window, although it was a bit torqued. It fit pretty well and kept bugs out for the rest of the afternoon.

I hauled my clothes in next and unpacked the items I think I will be wearing to my temp job. I have too much clothes! (This has been a problem of mine for a long time.) I mostly have a lot of skirts. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a long, colorful cotton skirt. The next few weeks are going to be a time of purging the items that aren’t 100% comfortable. There’s no need to carry around clothes that itch or bind.

After all the clothes were unpacked, I sat around playing solitaire and waiting for the housemate to come home to give me the password for the WiFi. Later I took a bath. I have a private bathroom, which is an absolute luxury.

I heard the housemate leave for work a little while ago. I have the house to myself! I’m going to haul in some food from the van, now that I know what cabinet I should use. I should eat something too. After I run a few errands, I can take it easy and prepare myself to be a working woman once again.

Apr1

Thank You , Dr. Jay

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Warning: If you don’t like needles, you may not want to read this post.

I’d had a tooth pulled a little over three years ago. The tooth wasn’t totally numb when the dentist started yanking on it, and it hurt. The dentist had to stop the procedure and numb the area further before continuing.

The way I remember it, there was a lot of tugging on the tooth, and I was fighting my body to keep it in the chair. My brain was telling me that what was happening in my mouth was UNNATURAL, and I should put a stop to it. Even once my mouth was adequately numb, my brain wouldn’t shut up about the unnaturalness of what the dentist was doing.

For the current extraction, I wanted my brain to be calm, so I took an Ativan. Actually, I took half an Ativan before I went to sleep the night before the procedure and the second half right before I went into dental exam room #2.

I’ll tell you what…I slept like a log the night before the extraction. The Ativan sent me off into the land of deepest sleep. I had to get up in the night for my usual trip to the toilet, but I barely felt awake. When I woke up the morning, I was in no hurry to get out of bed.

After breakfast, while I was brushing my teeth, the crown popped off my tooth for the last time. I put it back on my tooth, but didn’t use any adhesive. I figured I’d pop it off right before the extraction.

The Lady of the House drove me to the appointment because we all knew I shouldn’t be driving on Ativan. I didn’t feel much different than normal, just maybe a little slower and a little sleepier.

We arrived at Dr. Jay’s office about twenty minutes before my appointment. The doctor herself gave me a stack of paperwork to complete and accepted my payment. After filling in all of the blanks, I ducked into the restroom to pop off my crown and pop the remaining half of Ativan down my throat.

I sat down in the chair in exam room #2. I hadn’t been there long before the nurse led me into the hall for an x-ray. After the x-ray, she put a cotton swab with numbing gel against my gum. After a while, a male dentist (my dentist’s husband, I found out later, so his name is also Dr. Jay) came in to give me the numbing shots. Mr. Dr. Jay told me to open my mouth and close my eyes, and I did. He started giving me shots, and it hurt, but I kept my displays of discomfort to low moans.

They left me alone in the exam room for a while. A couple time I was asked if I was feeling numb. I said I was, but I was afraid I wasn’t numb enough. I wanted to be sure I’d feel no pain when the procedure started.

Mrs. Dr. Jay came into the room and said the procedure might be a little difficult because of my curved roots. She said an oral surgeon would have charged me $500 to remove that tooth. (Dr. Jay charged me $150.) She said not to worry though, because she is really good at extracting teeth. She told me that people have told her that she should write a book about extracting teeth.

Before she started to pull the tooth, Dr. Jay wanted to confirm that it was entirely numb. She started poking around in my mouth. I felt some pressure, but then I felt what would have quickly turned into pain had she poked harder. I raised my left hand. She stopped what she was doing and said she would give me more numbing medication.

My eyes were closed, and even if they had been open, I wouldn’t have been able to see where the dentist put the needle. From the way it felt, I imagined that Dr. Jay had jabbed the needle deep into my jaw. It hurt! It hurt! It Hurt! IT HURT! IT MOTHER FUCKING HURT! I screamed a wordless scream! Dr. Jay said (in her East Indian accent), Please do not scream. I quit screaming, but it hurt so bad.

After I’d quit yelling, Dr. Jay told me, We dentists have a saying. If you scream, we must charge you twice. Once for you and once for the patient that leaves.

I went from yelling to laughing. And I apologized for screaming.

While we were waiting to make sure that the medication had kicked in, Dr. Jay explained to me that the roots of the tooth were very infected. (Dr. Endo had told me the same thing, so I knew it was true.) She said that the infection is acidic, but the medication is a base. So the first round of the medication that hits the infection is neutralized. Although putting the medication right into the infection REALLY hurt, Dr. Jay made sure I wasn’t going to feel anything during the procedure. Thank you, Dr. Jay.

Dr. Jay had me open my mouth again. I made my own decision to close my eyes.

She told me I’d feel a lot of pressure because of the curved roots. I felt her working in my mouth, and I did feel a lot of pressure, but no pain. In just a few moments, she was no longer working in my mouth, and I said, Is that it? Are you done?

She was almost done. She’d pulled the tooth. The tooth was out. She still had to get some of the roots out of my jaw. She took care of them pretty quick. You are good, I told her, but she already knew it.

The nurse put a gauze pad over my tooth hole, and told me to bite down. Dr. Jay showed me the tooth, complete with curved roots, one of which was swollen with infection. Gross!

I was handed prescriptions for antibiotics (got to get rid of that infection) and painkillers (Tylenol with codeine, which I did not get filled) and instructions for aftercare.

I took a nap that afternoon, and ate mostly pudding and ice cream until the evening when The Lady made biscuits and I ate the very soft middles with honey. I took my medicine and let my body heal.

Mar31

Good-bye, My Sweet Princess Tooth

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Dear Sweet Princess Tooth,

We said our final good-by today, and I know we’ll never see one another again. I’m sorry I had to cut you out of my life, but the pain you were causing me was more than I could continue to bear.

We had a good run…over 40 years. I thought we’d be together until death did us part (and that you’d be faithful to me even some years after my death), but it was not meant to be.

I know the fault is ultimately mine. I ignored you for too long. I didn’t give you the love and attention and care you certainly deserved. I thought you’d always be there for me, no matter how I treated you.

When I realized I could lose you, I jumped in with every possible solution available to me. I spent time and money trying to save our relationship. I worried and begged the Universe to let us stay together. Unfortunately, everything I did was too little, too late.

Now you are gone, and I not only must I imagine life without you, I must actually live life without you. There’s no turning back. I can only go forward.

I love you. I always have. I always will. But I will learn to go on without you in my life. I know the pain will linger. There will always be a hole in my life where you once firmly stood. But I know the pain will slowly lessen. One day the pain of you will be gone, and I’ll be able to live normally again.

Thank you for all you did for me. I know I didn’t say thank you enough. You were a solid partner for so many years, and I do appreciate everything you did to help me.

I’ll never forget you. How could I? If the memories of you start to fade, I’ll only have to gaze upon your golden crown and remember you again.

Farewell,

Me

Mar28

Appointments

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After waiting two days for the office manager at my dentist’s office to call me back, I called her first thing yesterday morning. (By “first thing,” I mean before 8:30.) The dental assistant answered the phone. She is an adequate dental assistant, but I don’t think she’s the brightest bulb in the chandelier. First, when I tried to explain who I was and give some information about my situation, she told me she thought I had the wrong number. Then, when I said the office manager was supposed to call me back yesterday and hadn’t, she said that yes, the office manager had called me. I pointed out to her that my phone had never rung, no voice mail had been left, and my phone didn’t show a missed call. Then I just forged in with, “in any case,” and asked if I should call back later when the office manager was in. Oh, she assured me, the office manager was in. (Why she didn’t immediately pass the phone to the office manager, we’ll never know.)

The office manager got on the phone and told me she had received the report from Dr. Endo. She just had to print it she said, then the dentist would look at it and decide if she could remove the tooth. She told me she was printing the report as we spoke, and would call me back as soon as the dentist had read it.

She actually did call me back a few minutes later. The dentist would not do the extraction. The tooth was too close to the impacted wisdom tooth. She was afraid of “messing something up.” However, she did refer me once again to the possible bargain dentist (Dr. Jay) who’d said she couldn’t do a root canal because of my curved roots.

I called Dr. Jay. She said she would do the extraction. I reminded her about my curving roots, but she was not deterred. She said she can do just about any extraction. So I have an appointment with her next week. The extraction will cost $150.

Then I called the mechanic and made an appointment to bring in the van on Wednesday. He said he was going to call me back before the end of the day, but he didn’t. I am going to forgive him because I know he is super busy. I expect I’ll hear from him Monday. He said he should have all the work done in one day, but if something went wrong (such as being sold incorrect parts), it might take two days. I’m hoping the van will be ready for me to pick up on Wednesday, because on Thursday I am supposed to move into my new (temporary) home.

Let’s all keep our fingers crossed for good dental and vehicular news.

Mar26

Better Van News

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After a routine oil change resulted in a laundry list of supposedly needed repairs that were going to cost upwards of $2,000, the Lady of the House gave me the name and number of a mechanic her family (and her friend’s family) have used in the past. The Lady thinks the guy does good work and believes him to be very honest. I called him before the weekend and made arrangements to bring the van in to his shop early on Wednesday morning.

Our phone conversation was very enlightening. He seemed surprised by how high many of the prices given by the first garage were. He asked me how long the “check engine” light had been on. When I said it wasn’t on, he wondered how the first garage knew about a certain problem if it wasn’t because of the “check engine light.” He asked how much oil was ending up on the ground; when I told him I didn’t see any oil on the ground, he wondered why the first garage would recommend one of the repairs if hardly any oil was leaking. Before he even looked at the van, I felt reassured that maybe the van wasn’t in as bad a state as I had been led to believe.

I arrived at the garage bright and early on Wednesday morning. The mechanic remembered me and our phone conversation. He took the van into one of the bays to look it over. I didn’t wait long before he came back.

He said that yes, there were small oil and coolant leaks. However, the leaks were so small that no fluid was hitting the ground. He said he wouldn’t even worry about these leaks unless they got worse. He said to be sure to check the fluids regularly. I told him that the guy at the other garage said I should check the oil and coolant every other day. The second opinion mechanic said I should check the fluid once a month, or if I wanted to be super cautious, every two weeks.

Obviously those other guys were trying to scare me into having work done that isn’t even currently necessary.

The second opinion mechanic did say I need some front end work. The thing is, when you start taking things apart up there, it’s better to change as many parts as possible because you only want to pay labor once. So to get the front end tiptop, it will cost about $700, which I’ll be able to do once I get my first paycheck from the soon to start temp job.

I feel better about the van.

In tooth news, I called the my dentist’s office and explained to the office manager what happened at the endodontist’s office. The office manager said that the endodontist had not sent the report, but that she would call his office and ask for it, show it to the dentist, and call me back. She never called back. I guess I have to add that to my list of things to do.

Mar25

Murphy’s Law of the Mouth

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I went in for my root canal. The first thing the dental assistant did was take some x-rays of Princess Tooth and her surrounding tooth friends.

The endodontist, Dr. Endo came in next. He was younger than I expected, but very nice. I liked him, and more importantly, I trusted him.

He said he’d looked at the x-rays of my mouth and asked if I’d cracked the tooth. My x-rays (newfangled x-rays taken with a computer) were up on a screen to my left, and Dr. Endo pointed out the large abscess (ugh!), as well as some slight bone loss. Then he said the remainder of the tooth was cracked, and he wasn’t sure if the root canal was going to save the tooth. He said he wouldn’t be able to tell until he got in there with a microscope, but warned me that if the crack went too far down, the root canal had a 100% chance of failure and there was no sense continuing.

Dr.  Endo left the room and his lovely (friendly, caring) assistant put numbing gel in two areas in my mouth, behind and on the side of Princess Tooth. Once the gel had numbed me, Dr. Endo came back into the room and told me to close my eyes if I didn’t want to see the needle. I decided it was best if I didn’t see the needle, so I squeezed my eyes shut. Needles hurt, even when I can’t see them.

The assistant came back into the room with a beige square in her hands. She showed the square to me and asked, Are you familiar with dental dams? I wanted to say, Only as a safer sex technique for cunnilingus, but I kept that to myself and just said no.

She told me the dental dam would isolate my tooth during the procedure. She told me I’d feel pressure when she put it over my tooth, but to let her know if it poked or pinched.

She put it in my mouth and said, Do you feel the pressure? I didn’t feel a dang thing, so I shook my head no. She said, Oh, you’re good and numb. Oh yeah, I was numb all right. Swallowing felt weird, and I wondered if I was actually having problems breathing or it just felt that way because I couldn’t feel anything in the back of my mouth.

Then the assistant left the room again. I was in the room alone, leaned all the way back in the chair, with mouth wide open and a piece of latex over it while I wondered if I was going to continue to be able to breathe. It was not my happiest moment.

Finally (finally!) Dr. Endo and the lovely assistant came back into the room and started working in my mouth. Dr. Endo was drilling, and I could hear the loud hum of the drill in my head, but I couldn’t feel a thing. Oh blessed numbness!

Dr. Endo didn’t work in my mouth very long before he gave me the bad news. The tooth was way cracked and there was no saving it. Doing a root canal on it would be a waste of time and money. The Princess Tooth must be pulled.

I didn’t even cry about it. There’s only so much crying a person can do over one tooth. (Besides, my van has an appointment with a new mechanic , so I better keep some tears in reserve for that verdict.)

Dr. Endo said he’d write a report on my tooth and send it to the dentist who put on the crown. I’ll have to see her again, and we can decide if I’ll get an implant after the tooth is pulled. (Unless extraction + implant = < $1,100, the answer to the implant questions will be no.)

Dr. Endo said I should get the tooth extracted within a month. The abscess is still there and won’t go away until the tooth is out. Dr. Endo said to call his office if the tooth becomes painful or swollen (or painfully swollen, I presume), and he’ll write another prescription for antibiotics for me.

The cost to find out that my $900 crown is worthless and my tooth needs to be pulled? $400.

 

Mar21

Too Fat to Slide

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I saw a post on Craigslist (where else?) with the subject line, “Airplane Evacuation Slide testing.” The body of the ad read,

60 positions open for a 2 day project testing aerospace equipment.
Must not be afraid of heights
Must be able to commit to both days

I’ve found that on Craigslist, the less information given, the more likely an ad is to be fake. (Although why someone would want to fake airplane evacuation slide testing, I cannot imagine.) I sent an email anyway, in the event the job was real. I’ve never slid down an airplane evacuation slide, so getting paid to do so would give me another good story in the “crazy things I’ve done for money” category.

I replied by email late on Monday night, and didn’t receive a response until late Friday morning. By that time, I’d mostly forgotten about the ad and my reply, so when I received the call, it took me several seconds to figure out what the guy on the other end of the line was talking about.

The young man I was talking to was a recruiter for a temp agency that specializes in the needs of airlines. I had no idea such a temp agency existed.

The fellow went over some information with me: when (6am on two days at the end of the month), where (at a test site not too far from the host family’s place), how much ($15 an hour plus free lunch). He told me that the company was recruiting 60 people, although only 50 were needed. He said if all 60 people showed up, 50 would be picked and the extras sent home with a minimum of four hours pay. Those who stayed would actually be sliding down slides. He assured me there would be plenty of padding all around the slide, in the event anyone jumped too high and missed the slide and ended up on the ground. Also, one part of the test would be a rain simulation where all of the participants would get wet. Was I still interested?

Sure, I was still interested. He asked me some questions about my general health, then said I’d have to go to their office with my driver’s license and social security card or birth certificate to prove I was eligible to work. I’d also have to get checked by a nurse and attend an orientation. Conveniently I could complete all three tasks that very afternoon. I was going to that part of the world anyway, to show my driver’s license and social security card to the human resources folks at the test scoring facility, so why not get everything done at one time?

I found the office building and parked in a spot for two hour visitors. I went into the swanky lobby complete with a security officer dressed like a guard, but acting more like a tour guide. She directed me to the third floor, and I asked where I could find a restroom.

There was a guy going to the same place as I was. He was standing next to me, and when he heard me inquire about a restroom, he told me I shouldn’t use the restroom because they were going to drug test us. I had been asked by the recruiter if I would submit to a drug test, and I’d said yes. I don’t like drug tests, but I can pass them, and I’ve done them before for employment. However, I thought it rather rude for this stranger to tell me not to pee. It was still twenty minutes before I’d been told I’d see the nurse, and I drink enough water to basically pee on demand (TMI? Sorry.) Strangers should pretty much mind their own business.

I accidentally got off on the wrong floor. When the elevator doors opened, I assumed we were on the third floor. I bolted, mostly to escape from Mr. Not Minding His Own Business. After using the restroom (I do what I want, mister!) I went into what I thought was the correct office. (In my defense, there was a big sign with the name of the company I was looking for on the wall.) Turns out I was at the corporate office, but I needed to be at the human resources office. Oh. Embarrassing!

So I got back on the elevator and went up one floor. I found the right office, thanks to the big sign with the company name on the wall. I handed over my driver’s license and social security card for photocopying. Once they were returned, I was ushered into a conference room and given a medical intake form to complete.

The nurse came into the room right at one o’clock and started looking at each potential slider’s medical form. The nurse was an older lady, but not a sweet and cuddly grandma type. She was more of a rough and cocky biker chick type, the kind of woman who might wear a t-shirt announcing that she’s nobody’s old lady. She started eliminating people left and right. One man got really mad at her (his face got really red) because she eliminated him for something he’d told the recruiter about over the phone. She just shrugged and said, People get hurt doing this. Yes, that caused me to have some second thoughts.

Luckily, I’m pretty healthy and I’ve never had any broken bones, so the nurse didn’t find a reason to eliminate me on my medical intake form.

Next on the agenda were the one-on-one meetings with the nurse. I was the last of the group to go.

I followed the nurse down a long hallway and into a tiny room with a table and two chairs. I told her I didn’t know my weight, that I’d only guessed on the form, so she pulled out her scale. I took off my boots and stepped on. On the form, I’d written my weight as 178 pounds. I don’t know why I picked that number. The last time I was on a scale was last September while at my yearly woman’s exam, and I have no recollection of what my weight was then. The nurse’s scale said my weight was 164.8. Hey! That’s like losing 14 pounds in one second!

As I pulled my boots on, the nurse consulted her BMI chart. She told me she’d just remembered to take it out, meaning she’d not checked the BMI of any of the other potential sliders. Upon consulting her chart, she saw that the cutoff weight for someone of my height was 162 pounds. I am 2.8 pounds too fat to test airline evacuation slides!

The nurse shuffled through the other medical intake forms (right in front of me, where I could see people’s names and weight, if not complete medical history), and found at least a couple more people with BMI’s that were too high.

I asked her if I should stay for the orientation. She asked me if they were paying me for it. I said no. I told her that if she was going to eliminate me anyway, I wasn’t going to sit through the orientation. She said she couldn’t pass me, but would call (her superiors, I guess) and find out if they could take people over the current weight limits.

I talked to the recruiter who told me there would be more orientations the next week, so I could come in later if the nurse got the ok.

I wonder if I am better off not doing this job. Sure, the money is good, but the nurse made it sound like the potential for getting hurt is fairly high. If the recruiter calls again, I will probably take the job (and hope I get cut within an hour so I can collect $60 for doing practically nothing), but I’m not going to call the recruiter.