So OaA#1 and I arrive at the Penske rental place today and the only thing they have to carry a car is hooked up to this one enormous truck, like a two-story truck. It was seriously like 45 feet long. We clutched each other in horror, eyes bulging, and squeaked, "Is that our truck? Holy shit!"
It wasn't our truck. Our truck was big-ass enough, and the car thingie we ordered didn't come in, we are going back tomorrow to see if we can get it. We had BAT driving practice today and while not fun, it wasn't as bad as we were afraid. So, there were two miracles today.
One, her father, whom we have seen, um, four times in the past ten years, showed up, early, and loaded, cheerfully, everything. EVERYTHING. Furniture, boxes, clothes, go to the storage room and give her his sofabed, everything.
Two, the insurance guy I have been pestering about my disability claim called, saying it was approved and he was going to be sending me two checks so that my payments would start from when I got fired. If that money comes through, it will be a couple of months grace period to keep working on finding a job without being homeless in the process. Not worrying so much about money made me feel like a different person. Now, starting tomorrow, I am a BAT out of hell cross-country driver!
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Multiple Choice Madness
The cats are playing rodeo and hide-and-seek in the two empty boxes in the living room. All the other boxes are full, getting ready to go to New York to be my adorable child's beautiful apartment furnishings. The pressure and pain in my chest isn't cardiac, so it's either the RSD moving to my chest muscles, costochondritis, or just old-fashioned anxiety. The long-term disability insurance is delayed on medical review after I submitted two pounds of medical records, the on-call job I was counting on dried up abruptly in June and has been asking me for this piece of paperwork and that continuously since then, but not offering any work or paying for my time to answer all their questions, and the only interview I have been able to get in town was for a job I was wildly unqualified for and would pay about half what I used to make; no callback after a cordial and chatty hour and ten minutes out of my life.
I have a job interview six hours away tomorrow and it's sketchy. I have, honestly, no idea how I would physically manage a move if I got the damn thing. The only reason I'm going is that it's in the field I'm trying to break into and if I could manage it, even for a year or so, I could leverage it into a much better job. That's predicating, of course, that my upcoming crazed cross-country Penske racing team adventure is survivable. Oh, I didn't mention that I was loading my muscle spasms and my child's migraines into a moving van, hitching her Volkswagen to the rear of it, and driving it through the Appalachians to the other side of the country, with no one lined up to help us put the stuff in the third-floor unairconditioned apartment at the end of the trip? It's incidental that neither of us has ever driven a trailer in reverse, of course, and she has never driven a truck.
Thinking it over, it's quite possible that the nerve damage is not restricted to my limbs and trunk but has quite possibly extended above my neck.
I have a job interview six hours away tomorrow and it's sketchy. I have, honestly, no idea how I would physically manage a move if I got the damn thing. The only reason I'm going is that it's in the field I'm trying to break into and if I could manage it, even for a year or so, I could leverage it into a much better job. That's predicating, of course, that my upcoming crazed cross-country Penske racing team adventure is survivable. Oh, I didn't mention that I was loading my muscle spasms and my child's migraines into a moving van, hitching her Volkswagen to the rear of it, and driving it through the Appalachians to the other side of the country, with no one lined up to help us put the stuff in the third-floor unairconditioned apartment at the end of the trip? It's incidental that neither of us has ever driven a trailer in reverse, of course, and she has never driven a truck.
Thinking it over, it's quite possible that the nerve damage is not restricted to my limbs and trunk but has quite possibly extended above my neck.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Loonmagnet activated
I have long been known to have an awesome magnet for attracting loons. It has the strength of an electromagnet powered by the Hoover Dam turbines. Of course, it went into red-zone level today; I spent the morning slogging through the unemployment claim form online, only to discover I have to go in to the skeevy unemployment office in person ANYWAY. So after that little dose of crazy, I scooted off to the health club pool that doesn't have a broken heater today, since I haven't gotten my daily swim in since Friday at my regular one. Yay, an open lane, right? Right?
On my left are: a preternaturally fit and talented young lady is burning up the far lane with a splashy butterfly stroke, and a gentleman ten years my senior is freestyling a blue streak in the near lane. On my right, a smallish lady about my age and about half my height was bobbing around all smiley. I replied to her intial pleasantry about the pleasantness of the pleasant water. Pleasant, right? Magnet activated! Now, I am trying to first march up and down the pool, then swim up and down it, five minutes apiece. I zone out and really enjoy not focusing on anything, it really helps with the pain....usually. Up the pool? Lady speaks to me. The pool is great.Down the pool? Speaks to me again. If she had a pool at home, she'd never get out. Up? Yup. Down? Dammit, I'm exercising here! So I give up walking and start to swim. Nobody talks to a stranger while she is swimming, right? Wrong. Finally I am reduced to avoiding her eyes, smiling and nodding, and keeping on, as if I don't have breath to talk. She gets bored about ten minutes in and announces her next destination: the hot tub. Blessed be Poseidon. I finally get a few minutes to swim and walk in peace, dreading having to walk past the hot tub on the way back into the dressing room. What a relief, she's not in it anymore, so I shower off, go spin my suit dry, and grab my clothes for the changing cubicle. I barely have my underpants on when I hear Water Loon state with satisfaction, "THAT feels better." Followed by a loud flush. I tuck my toes back in horror, and listen as she bangs the toilet door open, passes the sinks without handwashing, and blessedly goes to dress on the other side of the lockers. I got out of there like my hair was on fire. Upon getting on the highway to go home, I found that not only was only one lane open for miles but this was the car I was stuck behind the whole way:
You have to admire six years worth of that type lunacy.
On my left are: a preternaturally fit and talented young lady is burning up the far lane with a splashy butterfly stroke, and a gentleman ten years my senior is freestyling a blue streak in the near lane. On my right, a smallish lady about my age and about half my height was bobbing around all smiley. I replied to her intial pleasantry about the pleasantness of the pleasant water. Pleasant, right? Magnet activated! Now, I am trying to first march up and down the pool, then swim up and down it, five minutes apiece. I zone out and really enjoy not focusing on anything, it really helps with the pain....usually. Up the pool? Lady speaks to me. The pool is great.Down the pool? Speaks to me again. If she had a pool at home, she'd never get out. Up? Yup. Down? Dammit, I'm exercising here! So I give up walking and start to swim. Nobody talks to a stranger while she is swimming, right? Wrong. Finally I am reduced to avoiding her eyes, smiling and nodding, and keeping on, as if I don't have breath to talk. She gets bored about ten minutes in and announces her next destination: the hot tub. Blessed be Poseidon. I finally get a few minutes to swim and walk in peace, dreading having to walk past the hot tub on the way back into the dressing room. What a relief, she's not in it anymore, so I shower off, go spin my suit dry, and grab my clothes for the changing cubicle. I barely have my underpants on when I hear Water Loon state with satisfaction, "THAT feels better." Followed by a loud flush. I tuck my toes back in horror, and listen as she bangs the toilet door open, passes the sinks without handwashing, and blessedly goes to dress on the other side of the lockers. I got out of there like my hair was on fire. Upon getting on the highway to go home, I found that not only was only one lane open for miles but this was the car I was stuck behind the whole way:
Saturday, July 10, 2010
More Nibbles
I am getting my hair cut Monday for a job interview on Tuesday. It's with my former employer, and basically seems to entail reading charts to look for more things to bill insurance companies. It pays a fraction of my former wage, but would keep the house going for a while, and give me a chance to pass my boards in the new specialty; I might have better luck finding work in that after October at that point. The other nibble is yet another possible travel job; it's across the country in the wrong direction from my kid, is for two months only, but the pay is pretty good; I'd be home by late September and it would pay enough to give me a cushion through October to pass my boards and try to get a real job.
Either one of these jobs will make me feel like my cat when he catches a live cicada; sure there is an accomplishment here but very vague on what it is.
Either one of these jobs will make me feel like my cat when he catches a live cicada; sure there is an accomplishment here but very vague on what it is.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Hot in the old town
I had a close call with a sick refrigerator. Thank goodness for the Internets, I was able to look up the symptoms and the schematics; OoA #2 got the part locally, and fixed that devil up once I pointed it out from the schematic; I was crouched on the camp fridge, trying to be all Miss Spatial Ability. He installed it brilliantly and the thing purrs like a kitten. Score.
There was a tragic death in the household; the compressor on the central air unit started tripping the breaker with a loud bang. The tech came and pronounced its death. Then the race was on for his equipment guy to source me a freon unit because the recommended, green-type crunchy fine modern unit requires new coils, which is an ADDITIONAL three thousand dollars. He did find me the last one in town; OoA paid $1900 for his three-ton Trane unit six weeks ago, mine was a no-brand three-ton unit at $2300. Plus a new drip pan and float switch, and I'm magically out $2600 for the privilege of breathing.
Nothing like being unemployed to make your appliances collectively clutch their throats.
There was a tragic death in the household; the compressor on the central air unit started tripping the breaker with a loud bang. The tech came and pronounced its death. Then the race was on for his equipment guy to source me a freon unit because the recommended, green-type crunchy fine modern unit requires new coils, which is an ADDITIONAL three thousand dollars. He did find me the last one in town; OoA paid $1900 for his three-ton Trane unit six weeks ago, mine was a no-brand three-ton unit at $2300. Plus a new drip pan and float switch, and I'm magically out $2600 for the privilege of breathing.
Nothing like being unemployed to make your appliances collectively clutch their throats.
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