Those of you who have read my previous blogs know that I am unhappy at the current job, and I have been looking for another job for some time. I no longer feel comfortable there. At one point, I was being called into the supervisor’s office and getting bawled out at least once a week because of a procedural violation. That caused a build up of resentment, caused me to relive a period from 1991-1992 when I was working in a messenger centre in an office building. I did not get along well with the supervisor. Always getting yelled at over some procedural error. I hated him so much that I wrote a rap song about him. I wish I still had the lyrics.
I saw an ad on Indeed.com about an open house at a very familiar location not far from me, and they were open on Saturday. I also didn’t go because I was feeling unmotivated. I like to rest on Saturdays. But I went and filled out an application. I also had an interview. The process moved quickly from there.
I was called back to finish filling out online forms, be fingerprinted, and to take a drug test. That almost proved to be difficult because Quest Labs only does drug testing between 10am and 3pm Monday to Friday, and it is difficult to get away. I didn’t want to take a day off for something that would only take a few minutes. But I caught a huge break. I had to take a client to parole, and I would have a roughly two hour wait. There was a Quest Lab a few miles south of me, and I needed to urinate thanks to the water pill I has taken that morning, so off I went after dropping the client off.
I got there, and I signed in. On the next block was the building where I had oral surgery a few years ago. I hope never to see the inside of that place again. Thankfully, the waiting room at Quest was not crowded. There were only two people ahead of me. The wait time was less that ten minutes until I was called. By the time I had provided the sample and received the donor copy, the waiting room had gotten crowded. Thank the Gods I got there early. I made it back in plenty of time to take the client home.
The drug test came back negative, so I have a start date of 2/18/2020. I just need to bring three letters of recommendation, Social Security card, and birth certificate. I have two letters already, and still waiting on a third. If need be, I can always ask a co-worker. I have two days of orientation before the job actually starts.
So this will be my last week at the job. I will have to turn in the work phone, which I will miss, despite the tendency for the battery to lose the charge quickly during cold weather. I shalst not miss the company van, a 2003 Chevy Venture. The park brake freezes during cold weather, the transaxle bangs into every gear except reverse, and the fuel gauge does not work, Thankfully, I have never run it out of gas.
I need to clean out my desk and delete stuff off the office computer. It will be some time before the position is filled. Ironically, the person that had the position before returned to the office as an assistant case manager. Most people in the office know I am leaving, but there are a few that do not know. Those are the ones I am close to. They will hear it either from me, or the supervisor. Friday will be an interesting day. But I worry about Saturday…
In the meantime, I did not sleep well overnight because I was so worried about the check engine light that came on. I went to the auto parts store and the employee plugged in a code reader and printed the results. Evie has a defective cannister purge valve. Not the end of the world, but it will need to be replaced at some point. Thanks to driving roughly 60 miles a day to/from work and spending an obscene amount of money on petrol, the mileage has accumulated rapidly. With this new job, she will not see so much highway driving. I swear, the maniacs that I have to deal with on the highway every morning want to see my truck turned into a smoking pile of crumpled sheet metal in the ditch just because I do not drive at 160 clicks like they do.
But wait until summer comes. Warm weather means summer blend petrol. That’s when Evie feels more like a race car than a truck. Sometimes I have to hold her back, lest I find a Ford pickup with flashing red and blue lights behind me.
Unfortunately, making the trip to the car shop meant no yoga this morning. Oh well. I’ll make up for it. One more week, and I’ll be free from the chains of slavery!
Sat Nam.
The Introvert Soap Box 