What Level of Hell Is This?

HellsDoor  I should read Dante’s Inferno – then maybe I would have a clue about what level I’m on. But part of me does not want to actually know how Hell works. I don’t plan on going there.

After being on this planet over 50-years, I suspect we are already there. Someday, when we are ready, Saint Michael, or designee, will come and get us. We will be ready when our souls have learned the lessons we are here to learn.

I must be dimwitted.

I have been close to death at least 3 times (that I know of) and here I still am – suffering through weeks like this one.

Every day this week there is a medical appointment to drive to. Monday’s was for me in Modesto (a 2+ hour drive). I had two appointments. The first one was with a Diabetes educator who showed me and hubby insulin pumps and sent me off with company brochures to go over and decide which one I wanted to order. The second was a 15-minute one with an educator to implant a blood glucose monitor into my stomach to get a 72-hour continuous reading. I waited in the waiting room for 2-hours because the gal that checked me in for the appointment pushed the wrong button and I got listed under the ‘no-shows’. So… I am driving in the dark on twisty mountain roads that have no street lights, exactly what I meant to avoid when I made the appointment. This made me very unhappy.

Tuesday I drove hubby to Sonora (1-hour drive) for his eye surgery scheduled for 12:30pm. His doctor had to cancel the surgery due to an infection inside hubby’s eye. This did not make hubby very happy. In fact, he is depressed and grumpy.

Today, there was no need for a followup appointment with the eye surgeon, so we had a ‘free’ day. There was a big storm coming, so we stoked the fire and rested. Neither of us had any energy to actually accomplish anything.

Thursday (tomorrow), I drive back to Modesto to get the sensor removed and see my endocrinologist to go over the readings and lab tests I had the last week. I need to make a decision on what pump features I want and fill out paperwork. Y’all know how irritated paperwork makes me. For those who don’t know me that well – paperwork makes me irritated.

All of these changes, and the stress of this month’s bad news about my jaw, and next week’s oral surgery, to do bone-grafting to rebuild bone loss due to an infection I didn’t know I had – has brought back an old enemy: depression riddled with anxiety.

THEN, this afternoon, I receive horrible news about sugar-free sodas and foods being toxic to our bodies (especially for diabetics, don’t you know) because of aspartame. And that aspartame combined with phenylalanine is poisonous.

Well, kiss my donkey!  Those research mice in the 70’s were right.

My fridge is stocked with my favorite drink, a sparking flavored water that has zero calories, zero carbohydrates, zero sodium, zero fat and zero sugar. And apparently, contains a slow acting poison.

But it tastes so wonderful!! And our tap water tastes metallic and sulfurous. Hmm… Coincidence?

Oh dear, I think I am descending another level.

The Interview From Hell – Part II

Previously in Part I . . .

I felt confident and excited as I approached the Operations Center where my interview would take place. I was also terrified. What if a more tech-y person wanted the job? What if they laughed at my grunt computer skills?

I opened the heavy metal door and entered the Operations Center. The entire Staff was sitting around the table, waiting. All 15 of them. Oh man! It was going to be a gang interview.

I could not tell you all that happened. The hour and 1/2 is a blur now. Only 2 questions I remember being asked, and I remember them because they were so strange.

1) “Do you have an aversion to food?”  I thought this a dumb question to ask someone who was over-weight. Of course I answered “No”.  It was obvious I loved food.

2) “Would you be willing to join our  softball team?  This struck me as a trick question, and I had to ponder this a bit. Flash backs of high school gym class and hating softball because no one ever wanted the “Queen of Fouls” on their team. Being made fun of because when I whacked the ball I would take off running, never quite getting what made a foul ball a foul ball.

I had to be honest with these people. “Well,” I said. ” It would probably be in the best interest of  your  team  if I joined a different one.”

A day went by. Then two days.  I did not hear anything from the Ops Center or my supervisor. Was the “gang” still interviewing people? For MY job? I managed to wait until a week after the interview to call and speak with the woman who would be the supervisor for MY job. She told me that they had finished the interview process and would be making a decision soon.

Three days later, I called and asked if I was still in the running. Panic was starting to set in. What was taking so long? Why must they torture me? What level of Hell is this?

It took 2 more weeks (and descending to deeper levels of Hell) for them to finally decide. My supervisor called me that evening at home to tell me the outcome. She knew I was having a break down over this and she told me she did not want me to have to wait until morning for the news. I am sure she was relieved to get me off her back.

I was officially offered  MY job. The best decision they and I ever made! I still work for the Ops Center. After I completed my Computer Science degree I moved into a technical position for them. This June I will have been with the “gang” 17 years.

It will take a very large crow-bar to remove me from here.

The Interview from Hell – Part I

I ran out of time and it is after midnight now, so I missed posting Jan 6th. This bums me greatly. However, to make up for this I am going to continue this saga later today. After a good nights sleep.

My current position “expired” when the project I worked for ran out of funding. So, I needed a job and soon. Every interview for open positions that I had so far had gone OK. It was the jobs that sucked. I wanted to find a position that was technical as well as administrative. I had been ruined by my former project. I was the administrative person for a group of software programmers. They let me do some very low-level (OK, grunt) computer tasks for them and I loved it. I cannot explain why, but I did.

Now I wanted to work with actual data, keep learning UNIX. The thought of doing only admin tasks again depressed me. I found out about an opening for an Operations Assistant. Admin and technical support for an Operations Center. I lucked out and got a tour of the place before I applied. The “Center” was housed in a very old, very broken down trailer. It did not even have running water. The carpet was sort of gross. It was not a large trailer, so multiple file cabinets were stacked up in the middle of the room and these were nearly as tall as I was.

The place was noisy. All around the edges of the room were different kinds of equipment. One monitor showed looping weather satellite images. One piece of equipment constantly beeped. A deep computer generated (and very loud) voice would make an announcement once in a while – in a language unknown to me. A group of computer stations were also in the middle of the room (next to the cabinets). They displayed data and graphics – also in a language unknown to me.

I found MY job! So what if I have to go to the building next door to pee? The jobs in the swanky new buildings could not compete with this one.This was home.

Now I needed to convince my new boss that it was MY job. I was perfect for the position in my own mind. I felt confident and excited as I approached the Operations Center where my interview would take place. I was also terrified. What if a more tech-y person wanted the job? What if they laughed at my grunt computer skills?

to be continued…