Reddish Musings

This is an enlarged X-Ray of my thumb joint. See that little sun icon on the picture? That's the cursor the doc was using to move the image around, so I'm not that strange of a mutant. But just to the left of that on the picture? That little orb that looks like what those ghost hunters get so excited about?

Yeah, that shouldn't be there. But it's not the FIRST time this has happened to me. It is the first time it seems to have happened for no reason, so I guess my body is learning to use its powers without any catalyst. I don't know how I feel about that.

The first time this happened, as far as I know, was in response to a sprained or possibly chipped elbow bone. The sprain happened, at this point, 11 years ago, and I could never straighten my arm out or use it for much support from that point. The folks and I always figured it was because I didn't do enough of the "exercises" the doctors gave me.

Turns out, the real problem was this monstrosity:

That is my left elbow joint. And the circled object is the egg-shaped growth that was keeping my arm from being functional for NINE YEARS. By that time, the doctor was wondering if he should even bother taking it out, but my question was: A) It probably didn't start that size, right? And B) What if it keeps growing?

Never mind the arthritic possibilities of keeping that in my joint.

So it looks like the new pain in my thumb could stem from the irritation caused by the new activity I was doing at Target, what with lifting and carrying boxes pretty often. I'm hoping that it'll die down as the activity does.

Some people would suggest carpal tunnel as a possibility. That makes a lot of sense, as I've been a heavy computer user for most of my existence. However, I use the computer less now than I did a few years ago, the symptoms weren't anything like any carpal tunnel symptoms I could find on the internet, and the pain only started after the Target job did.

Which leads me to my next segment:

I quit!

I quit without working out the last of my two weeks! I feel horrible for it, but I also feel some strange gratification for making a decision that makes me happy and makes life easier for me.

The main conflict arose when I realized first I'd be working 50-60+ hours a week for a couple weeks, for no benefit to myself. My new job is double the hours and double the pay, and it's perfect for me. Sitting around typing all day with people who like me and who I like back.

The kicker really came when the HR manager came by after I had given my initial 2 weeks notice and tried to make me feel GUILTY for leaving, and then tried to tell me I should stay longer while they have to go through the arduous process of finding someone to replace me.

I'm sorry, Target. I really didn't want to make life harder on the girls who actually work in the Bakery, but when the management tries to make me feel guilty for moving on, and tries to manipulate me into staying longer than I'm contractually obligated to, claiming that it's hard to find people to work in this economy?

The whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. So I left. It means I won't feel comfortable shopping there anymore, which is sad because I like Target, but it also means I won't be completely exhausted by working 7 days a week for a while.

So, yes it's unprofessional. Yes I burned a bridge. But I only worked there for a month before I left, and I think, if something awful comes to my current job, judging from the hits I got on my resume online, I think I'll be okay.

In celebration of freedom, I'm watching Office Space. This should both prepare me for my office job, and let me be happy that I no longer work somewhere I don't really like.

Toodles!

I've decided to team up with my swank camera-phone and take a picture of something interesting from my day, and write on it.

I've had a strange week of long-term life decisions, but in short, I've put notice in at Target that I will no longer be working there (after a whole month, bad me), because my previous employers contacted me and offered me double the hours at double the pay. Too bad, so sad, right?

I will have to take night classes this Fall, but I think I can make it work. I'm smart and dedicated that way.

So! Today started with Cheerios and yogurt, and then a trip to the drug testing facility to reassure my future/previous bosses that I had not become a crackhead since they last saw me. Let me take this moment to admit that, despite having never taken a drug (other than prescribed pain pills after a surgery), I still get nervous when it comes time for drug testing. I don't know if it's just the severe, silent environment in the waiting rooms at those offices, or if it's the invisibly present knowledge that I could lose a job opportunity if I messed this up. Even though I know I haven't done anything wrong. Or maybe it's the fact that, to be prepared for these things, I drink a ton of water and then sit in the waiting room for way too long, bladder full to bursting, because it's not like you can just show up dry, y'know?

Also, pee-in-the-cup tests are one of the few moments in life where I wish I had a penis.

Anyway - saving all the gross details: I don't know if it was nerves, or just me being an utter klutz, but after managing to fill that dang cup enough (not entirely, thank God), I knocked it over. That's right - I spilled pee all over the restroom at a drug testing facility.

I am not proud of this. I was, in fact, beet red for the rest of the afternoon. It worked out, in the end, but 1) ew, and 2) omgembarrasingandwhatdoIdonowthatmybladderisempty!?

So, that was part 1 of my day. I know, aren't you so disappointed that wasn't the thing I took a picture of?

Nah, the picture that grabbed my attention today was a shot of the sandwiches my fiance and I bought at Bone Daddy's, a lovely booby-joint restaurant that serves amazing food (and "scenery" I guess. What a tacky term for half-naked waitresses). It was called the Flying Pig Sandwich, and, if I recall correctly, it had on it: