Life, life is a wonderful thing. I'm grateful that I can breathe without pain and that I can walk without assistance. I have a wonderful family that loves me and I found my husband early, which has made all the difference. We have a very nice life with our two dogs (even the perpetual pee-er). I have a newer SUV and we own our house, or we bought it with the mortgage company's money anyway.
No complaints, however, I am certifiably nuts. I went to my interview this morning. I cried at my interview this morning. So now I have one interview I cried at and one first day of work that I fainted three times at. Did you all catch that? I CRIED at my interview. She asked me a simple question about giving an example of a time I went above and beyond. The only example that came to mind was when an obstetric patient came into the clinic hysterical and holding her miscarried baby in her lap while still profusely bleeding. We got her a wheelchair and back to a room very quickly. I'm not even sure I did that - it was probably V. And I tell this nice human resources lady about this and START CRYING. What is wrong with me? You don't CRY in an interview! Then I can't stop. Instead of collecting myself and thinking ahead to the next question, I keep thinking that I now know how that lady felt. I'm really glad we were so calm and nice around her. I remember how quiet we were after all of that happened and how we asked if she was going to be okay. But I know how it feels to be that upset about losing a baby. I know. Just a little ticked off that this all needed to come out in an interview. Two hours later and I'm still teary.
The first lady called me before I even got back to work and I'm going to lunch at the facility next Tuesday to meet all of the staff and see if we "click." I'm not sure if they're going to pay me enough and my health insurance wouldn't start for 30 days, but C is looking into a month of health insurance through his company. We're content to just wait and see what comes of this. I just need to stop crying at interviews.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch (E, do you remember when Mr. M at FH used to say that ALL the time?), today is C's 27th birthday. He made his mom have her only c-section! I didn't bake him the muffins he wanted, but I did make him a fried egg sandwich before he left for work. N&A are coming over for dinner tonight and I hope that I can pick up the house, bake a German chocolate cake, and make a pasta salad before they get there. I sent C's mom a text that thanked her for having him 27 years ago - she'll get a kick out of that.
Calm . . . Breathe in Breathe out Breathe in. It will all be okay.
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