Argephontes
4/11/2003
I had my very last physical therapy session this week, and my follow-up with the doctor today.
It went something like this:
10:15 am - Arrive in Office. Sit down with a magazine.
11:00 am - Throw magazine down in disgust - the only articles left were things like "How to Construct a Cheat-Proof Marriage!" Instead, observe other patients in the waiting room-
Like watching the Dudley Dursely-esque little milk-boy across the room sit down and meticulously EAT, not CHEW, an entire pack of Extra cinammon gum.
Or watching the hoity-toity woman with the primped up lavender EASTER DRESS wearing daughter (who dresses their kid up like that to go to the doctor?) make the staff wash out a glass for her to take into the bathroom so she could "take a pill" instead of using the water fountain like normal people.
11:30 am - start to get really irritated.
11:45 am - Sit listlessly, not even bothering to try to entertain myself anymore. Also, no longer wonder if anyone noticed that my stomach growled because I no longer care.
12:00 pm - ....
12:20 pm - Finally get called back to see the doctor.
He says, "So, that shoulder doing better?"
Me: "Yes, actually."
Him: "Alright then."
12:25 - Pay $50 for the office visit and leave.
I don't know what I was expecting to happen for a routine follow-up visit, but it surely wasn't that. I do know to expect to wait when you see the doctor. I suppose I just expect them to tell you something Really Important in exchange. ¶ 4/11/2003 03:37:00 PM
It went something like this:
10:15 am - Arrive in Office. Sit down with a magazine.
11:00 am - Throw magazine down in disgust - the only articles left were things like "How to Construct a Cheat-Proof Marriage!" Instead, observe other patients in the waiting room-
Like watching the Dudley Dursely-esque little milk-boy across the room sit down and meticulously EAT, not CHEW, an entire pack of Extra cinammon gum.
Or watching the hoity-toity woman with the primped up lavender EASTER DRESS wearing daughter (who dresses their kid up like that to go to the doctor?) make the staff wash out a glass for her to take into the bathroom so she could "take a pill" instead of using the water fountain like normal people.
11:30 am - start to get really irritated.
11:45 am - Sit listlessly, not even bothering to try to entertain myself anymore. Also, no longer wonder if anyone noticed that my stomach growled because I no longer care.
12:00 pm - ....
12:20 pm - Finally get called back to see the doctor.
He says, "So, that shoulder doing better?"
Me: "Yes, actually."
Him: "Alright then."
12:25 - Pay $50 for the office visit and leave.
I don't know what I was expecting to happen for a routine follow-up visit, but it surely wasn't that. I do know to expect to wait when you see the doctor. I suppose I just expect them to tell you something Really Important in exchange. ¶ 4/11/2003 03:37:00 PM
Math time... not my best skill, but bear with me. I'm curious.
I was just thinking how much having to stop what you are doing and go to the bathroom irritates me, and I wondered how much time we actually spend going to, "going," and cleaning up after the bathroom. Say I go four times a day, and spend an average of 45 seconds actually doing my business. Add to that the time it takes to get to the bathroom - which could be at home or work. Let's call that an average of 30 seconds each way, because my office isn't that far down the hall from the Ladie's Room. Add another 45 seconds for washing and drying my hands. That totals 150 seconds, or 2.5 minutes each time I go to the bathroom. Multiply that times four - that's 10 minutes per day that I spend doing my business. 70 minutes per week. 3,640 minutes, or 60 hours, per year.
We spend approximately 2 and 1/2 days each year just going to the bathroom. That's actually worse than I expected. I think I'm going to stop now, because I'm not so sure I actually want to know how many years of my life I will have given to the john by the time I'm 65. ¶ 4/11/2003 09:22:00 AM
I was just thinking how much having to stop what you are doing and go to the bathroom irritates me, and I wondered how much time we actually spend going to, "going," and cleaning up after the bathroom. Say I go four times a day, and spend an average of 45 seconds actually doing my business. Add to that the time it takes to get to the bathroom - which could be at home or work. Let's call that an average of 30 seconds each way, because my office isn't that far down the hall from the Ladie's Room. Add another 45 seconds for washing and drying my hands. That totals 150 seconds, or 2.5 minutes each time I go to the bathroom. Multiply that times four - that's 10 minutes per day that I spend doing my business. 70 minutes per week. 3,640 minutes, or 60 hours, per year.
We spend approximately 2 and 1/2 days each year just going to the bathroom. That's actually worse than I expected. I think I'm going to stop now, because I'm not so sure I actually want to know how many years of my life I will have given to the john by the time I'm 65. ¶ 4/11/2003 09:22:00 AM
4/10/2003
After the chaos of writing, re-writing, un-re-writing, etc. my resume, I have officially sent out my very first letter begging for someone to give me a job. :) Hoping to get a few interviews set up for the week after Easter, since I'll be in Jersey.
¶ 4/10/2003 04:57:00 PM
4/09/2003
In two hours, I'm going to shut off my brain except for the parts required for hockey. It's PLAY-OFFS TIME!
I thought about getting the Direct TV shut off for the last month to save a little extra cash (every little bit helps - discovered today that to transport my babies - Puck, Mazzy and Luc - it's gonna be a whoppin' $750), but then realized that I would miss the whole play-offs season. I don't think Alicia would like me very much anymore if I suddenly started showing up at her house every other night for three hours for the next [hopefully] month or so.
In other hockey-related news, Ryan very barely came out League Champion in our Fantasy Hockey League - and I came in 2nd. We battled that last week neck and neck, and he ended up taking it by 2 shots-on-goal. It's very strange to NOT be setting my players for the day as part of my morning coffee/email/read-the-blogs routine. ¶ 4/09/2003 04:13:00 PM
I thought about getting the Direct TV shut off for the last month to save a little extra cash (every little bit helps - discovered today that to transport my babies - Puck, Mazzy and Luc - it's gonna be a whoppin' $750), but then realized that I would miss the whole play-offs season. I don't think Alicia would like me very much anymore if I suddenly started showing up at her house every other night for three hours for the next [hopefully] month or so.
In other hockey-related news, Ryan very barely came out League Champion in our Fantasy Hockey League - and I came in 2nd. We battled that last week neck and neck, and he ended up taking it by 2 shots-on-goal. It's very strange to NOT be setting my players for the day as part of my morning coffee/email/read-the-blogs routine. ¶ 4/09/2003 04:13:00 PM
4/08/2003
In lieu of my recent rant on bad driving (in particular the bit about appropriate four-way stop protocol), I just had to post this quote from the DM today:
"I wouldn't care if you blindfolded yourself, took a couple of hits of LSD, loaded the back of your pickup truck with a tank of moonshine, hooked it to some Macgyveresque apparatus designed to feed you the alcohol intravenously and drove backwards through every intersection in Lafayette County screaming about giant bats, flying squirrels and the impending Apocalypse. I want drivers to signal their directional intentions while driving." ¶ 4/08/2003 09:10:00 AM
"I wouldn't care if you blindfolded yourself, took a couple of hits of LSD, loaded the back of your pickup truck with a tank of moonshine, hooked it to some Macgyveresque apparatus designed to feed you the alcohol intravenously and drove backwards through every intersection in Lafayette County screaming about giant bats, flying squirrels and the impending Apocalypse. I want drivers to signal their directional intentions while driving." ¶ 4/08/2003 09:10:00 AM
4/07/2003
I have an announcement to make.
You may wonder why I have been distracted of late (read: Not Posting). Well…. There have been some things going on, not the least of which is a decision to relocate, get a new job, and essentially change my entire life.
Well, that’s happening now. I’m moving… to Southern New Jersey. In other words, practically a foreign country.
We’ve been talking about doing this for a while now. Here’s the deal. I LOVE Mississippi. It’s beautiful. It’s my home, and the land is a part of my soul. But there comes a time when you have to leave in order to pursue the things you want in your life.
Mississippi is one of the poorest states in the country. What wealth we do have comes from landowners and small businesses – but it’s an inner circle. The money circulates amongst about 2% of the population and everyone else is poor as a goat (poorer, really). There aren’t really any sort of jobs on a professional level. Even what few there are don’t compensate on anything like the national level. Oxford is a slight exception to the former rule but certainly not the latter. Especially in my case, because by working for a university, I work for the State of Mississippi. I have a college degree. I have a lot of skills. I perform, quite well, a job that encompasses several areas of expertise. I receive a salary close to the equivalent of an assistant manager at McDonalds.
The way I’ve come to look at living in Mississippi is this: It’s a fine place to be, but the only directions in which to move are lateral ones. Wherever you may be on the scale, you can come here and probably maintain a way to stay where you are. But there is no upward mobility. This is not enough for me. I can do better for me, for my future, for any children I may someday have.
I’m also tired of living amongst the people who continue to perpetuate this very system. The South is verrry conservative, and I’d like to see what it’s like to live amongst people with a different worldview. I was telling a co-worker that Ryan and I were considering a move. She said that she could never move away from the South because 1) She’s Southern Baptist and “even the Southern Baptist churches up there aren’t the same – I wouldn’t have a church to go to;” and 2) People are so Liberal up North. I smiled and chuckled, and said, “That’s exactly why I want to go there.”
Ryan and I debated over location for a while – the initial criteria was that wherever we picked should be closer to his family, because he doesn’t fly (long story). His family is very tight, and he remains the only person not in the South Jersey/Southeastern Pennsylvania/Delaware area. We talked about North Carolina for a while, because we looked at a map and it was centrally located between the triangle that is our immediate families (with the exception of my real Dad, who lives across an ocean and, if left in the equation, would’ve put in some island in the middle of the Atlantic).
North Carolina fell out. Partly because I visited, and although I liked it and knew I could live there, it didn’t feel like home. Partly, too, because I feel like I need to make a clean break. Not try to find someplace Like This But Better – I want to be bold. I want to do something Different from anything I’ve ever done. I want to live someplace new.
Oddly enough, I never even seriously considered that I would be willing to live in the NJ area until I decided that was what I wanted. I knew that deep down, Ryan wanted not just to be closer to home, but to return there. He never pushed the issue, which is probably a good thing. I can be very stubborn about things if I am feeling pressured about them. Somehow, last August, it hit me that I very well *could* live there, and not only that but I wanted to.
Somehow I know that the only places I truly feel like I can be a part of – in the way that you can share a part of yourself with a place – are the East Coast and the South. And I’ve been in the South for most of my life, and I know that it’s time to go. I’ve been to Pacific Northwest, and while it’s beautiful, it’s not my place. I’ve been to the Southwest, and I feel the same way. The Midwest is iffy because I haven’t been anywhere but Chicago, really, which probably isn’t representative, but something about being that far away from the ocean disturbs me. I don’t even go to the beach that often, and I live 5 hours away from a coast right now. Still, I know it’s there.
Last Friday, Ryan was offered and accepted a very nice job with a pretty prominent company that he begins training for on April 21. Two more weeks here, and he is gone. The plan is that he will stay with his parents for a month and start scouting places to live (I’m very picky, not to mention dog and two cats = harder to find a place). In the meantime, I’ve got to whip my resume into shape and start seriously looking for a job myself, while trying to coordinate a move of this magnitude.
My goal is to hie myself up there at the end of May. I’m glad I have no firm plans at this point to visit my Dad ( I had been planning to spend two weeks in May, and I suppose now I’ll have to postpone it, although hopefully I can sneak a trip to Paris in-between jobs). I’m also still not done with all the settlement crap from the accident, which I’d like to have taken care of before I leave. If I start thinking of all the things I’ve got to do to make this possible, my brain hurts.
Y’all, I’m terrified. I’m excited as all hell, but this is definitely a big adventure for me. I’ve lived here for 13 years. Before that, I was kid and that doesn’t really count.
So there’s my news, and probably a lot more of the back-story than anyone wanted to hear. Consider yourself caught up on current events, and expect to hear a lot of commentary on the trials of moving, how crazy them Yankees are, and what a goddamn lunatic I am for trying to start a new career in the current economy. ;)
And, uh… any advice, suggestions, encouragement, and/or general motivational statements would be accepted and appreciated!
¶ 4/07/2003 03:40:00 PM
You may wonder why I have been distracted of late (read: Not Posting). Well…. There have been some things going on, not the least of which is a decision to relocate, get a new job, and essentially change my entire life.
Well, that’s happening now. I’m moving… to Southern New Jersey. In other words, practically a foreign country.
We’ve been talking about doing this for a while now. Here’s the deal. I LOVE Mississippi. It’s beautiful. It’s my home, and the land is a part of my soul. But there comes a time when you have to leave in order to pursue the things you want in your life.
Mississippi is one of the poorest states in the country. What wealth we do have comes from landowners and small businesses – but it’s an inner circle. The money circulates amongst about 2% of the population and everyone else is poor as a goat (poorer, really). There aren’t really any sort of jobs on a professional level. Even what few there are don’t compensate on anything like the national level. Oxford is a slight exception to the former rule but certainly not the latter. Especially in my case, because by working for a university, I work for the State of Mississippi. I have a college degree. I have a lot of skills. I perform, quite well, a job that encompasses several areas of expertise. I receive a salary close to the equivalent of an assistant manager at McDonalds.
The way I’ve come to look at living in Mississippi is this: It’s a fine place to be, but the only directions in which to move are lateral ones. Wherever you may be on the scale, you can come here and probably maintain a way to stay where you are. But there is no upward mobility. This is not enough for me. I can do better for me, for my future, for any children I may someday have.
I’m also tired of living amongst the people who continue to perpetuate this very system. The South is verrry conservative, and I’d like to see what it’s like to live amongst people with a different worldview. I was telling a co-worker that Ryan and I were considering a move. She said that she could never move away from the South because 1) She’s Southern Baptist and “even the Southern Baptist churches up there aren’t the same – I wouldn’t have a church to go to;” and 2) People are so Liberal up North. I smiled and chuckled, and said, “That’s exactly why I want to go there.”
Ryan and I debated over location for a while – the initial criteria was that wherever we picked should be closer to his family, because he doesn’t fly (long story). His family is very tight, and he remains the only person not in the South Jersey/Southeastern Pennsylvania/Delaware area. We talked about North Carolina for a while, because we looked at a map and it was centrally located between the triangle that is our immediate families (with the exception of my real Dad, who lives across an ocean and, if left in the equation, would’ve put in some island in the middle of the Atlantic).
North Carolina fell out. Partly because I visited, and although I liked it and knew I could live there, it didn’t feel like home. Partly, too, because I feel like I need to make a clean break. Not try to find someplace Like This But Better – I want to be bold. I want to do something Different from anything I’ve ever done. I want to live someplace new.
Oddly enough, I never even seriously considered that I would be willing to live in the NJ area until I decided that was what I wanted. I knew that deep down, Ryan wanted not just to be closer to home, but to return there. He never pushed the issue, which is probably a good thing. I can be very stubborn about things if I am feeling pressured about them. Somehow, last August, it hit me that I very well *could* live there, and not only that but I wanted to.
Somehow I know that the only places I truly feel like I can be a part of – in the way that you can share a part of yourself with a place – are the East Coast and the South. And I’ve been in the South for most of my life, and I know that it’s time to go. I’ve been to Pacific Northwest, and while it’s beautiful, it’s not my place. I’ve been to the Southwest, and I feel the same way. The Midwest is iffy because I haven’t been anywhere but Chicago, really, which probably isn’t representative, but something about being that far away from the ocean disturbs me. I don’t even go to the beach that often, and I live 5 hours away from a coast right now. Still, I know it’s there.
Last Friday, Ryan was offered and accepted a very nice job with a pretty prominent company that he begins training for on April 21. Two more weeks here, and he is gone. The plan is that he will stay with his parents for a month and start scouting places to live (I’m very picky, not to mention dog and two cats = harder to find a place). In the meantime, I’ve got to whip my resume into shape and start seriously looking for a job myself, while trying to coordinate a move of this magnitude.
My goal is to hie myself up there at the end of May. I’m glad I have no firm plans at this point to visit my Dad ( I had been planning to spend two weeks in May, and I suppose now I’ll have to postpone it, although hopefully I can sneak a trip to Paris in-between jobs). I’m also still not done with all the settlement crap from the accident, which I’d like to have taken care of before I leave. If I start thinking of all the things I’ve got to do to make this possible, my brain hurts.
Y’all, I’m terrified. I’m excited as all hell, but this is definitely a big adventure for me. I’ve lived here for 13 years. Before that, I was kid and that doesn’t really count.
So there’s my news, and probably a lot more of the back-story than anyone wanted to hear. Consider yourself caught up on current events, and expect to hear a lot of commentary on the trials of moving, how crazy them Yankees are, and what a goddamn lunatic I am for trying to start a new career in the current economy. ;)
And, uh… any advice, suggestions, encouragement, and/or general motivational statements would be accepted and appreciated!
¶ 4/07/2003 03:40:00 PM
