Jeez Lu Freaking Eez!
Yeah! How about them updates?!
So August was a long, grueling month of what seemed like endless job searching, moping and feeling all together unaccomplished. The end of the summer when you feel you've been watering those fall crops for way too long... In total, I think I've applied to about 20 jobs. That's about 5 jobs per week. Not bad, I guess.
So today, things were looking up. I stayed up all night long because in addition to having consumed a chai tea, compliments of Joanna, I found a job on Craig's List that was absolutely PERFECT! Entry level health care administration position where the candidate would be schooled and trained on the job. Not only that, but it would be in a hospital setting in the surgical field. Come on! What more could I ask for? So the mere idea that I could even read a description of the perfect job amplified my already anxious system. In this all-nighter researching state, I decided that I needed to attain my permit. I made use of my insomnia, downloaded the RI Driver's Manual and read all 24-point font, fifty-five pages of it. When I finished at about 6am, I collected all the necessary documents for the zombies at the DMV in Pawtucket, making sure to have back-ups for everything I needed (always the way to go). I got there bright and early at 8:15am, waited 15 minutes in the chill of the morning to get my little ticket, strangely number 88 (if you went to Spain with me, or heard of my voyage in detail, you will understand... don't worry... it gets better) and sat down to await my announcement of my number. I was then, within about 3 minutes, attended by this dry-mannered, chubby man with a Peter and Lois Griffin sticker under his work ID photo (the only assurance that part of this man was still human). He, thankfully, accepted all of my documents (my birth certificate isn't quite an original. It's more like a photo copy with a seal on it. But, the seal makes it an authentic photo copy. Yeah. Go, Brooklyn...) and I proceeded to ace my test, grab my receipt with the date of my driving exam, grab my permit and be out of the DMV by 9am. I would have been out earlier if I didn't look over my answers. As for the date of my driving exam (this is another joke for those of you who went to Spain with me, or heard of my superstitious encounters) is on December 12th. That is correct. 12/12. 88. 12/12/. Seeing a little eerie connection here? Additionally, my parents were wed on December 12, 1980. Yup. Kind of freaky.
I came home, exhausted, made myself breakfast, applied for the PERFECT job I mentioned earlier (after some toiling over cover letters, resumes, and attaching things with my buddy Tony) and passed the EEEFFFF out from 11am until 4pm. Five hours of refreshing sleep. I checked my cellphone and noticed I had a call. It was some female from Meditech or Meditac inquiring about my resume. Now, I've applied for so many jobs and I have kept track of 95% of them on a nice neat list and I had NO recollection of this Medi-whosey-whatsis so felt embarrassed to return her call right away because I didn't want to be the oaf who asks, "So what did I apply for again?" I dunno. I'll grow balls and call her back and make it sound like she wasn't specific enough considering a lot of job postings online will not list the employer. Or that I'm unfamiliar with online application systems because there are so many of them, etc. So yeah, hopefully a few more calls will stream in and I can land a nice job. Only time will tell.
Well, this shiny computer box is making me, I dunno, something, and I would like to be a girl and purchase products at my local Consumer Value Store.
This entry was brought to you by the numbers 8, 12 and the letter A.
So August was a long, grueling month of what seemed like endless job searching, moping and feeling all together unaccomplished. The end of the summer when you feel you've been watering those fall crops for way too long... In total, I think I've applied to about 20 jobs. That's about 5 jobs per week. Not bad, I guess.
So today, things were looking up. I stayed up all night long because in addition to having consumed a chai tea, compliments of Joanna, I found a job on Craig's List that was absolutely PERFECT! Entry level health care administration position where the candidate would be schooled and trained on the job. Not only that, but it would be in a hospital setting in the surgical field. Come on! What more could I ask for? So the mere idea that I could even read a description of the perfect job amplified my already anxious system. In this all-nighter researching state, I decided that I needed to attain my permit. I made use of my insomnia, downloaded the RI Driver's Manual and read all 24-point font, fifty-five pages of it. When I finished at about 6am, I collected all the necessary documents for the zombies at the DMV in Pawtucket, making sure to have back-ups for everything I needed (always the way to go). I got there bright and early at 8:15am, waited 15 minutes in the chill of the morning to get my little ticket, strangely number 88 (if you went to Spain with me, or heard of my voyage in detail, you will understand... don't worry... it gets better) and sat down to await my announcement of my number. I was then, within about 3 minutes, attended by this dry-mannered, chubby man with a Peter and Lois Griffin sticker under his work ID photo (the only assurance that part of this man was still human). He, thankfully, accepted all of my documents (my birth certificate isn't quite an original. It's more like a photo copy with a seal on it. But, the seal makes it an authentic photo copy. Yeah. Go, Brooklyn...) and I proceeded to ace my test, grab my receipt with the date of my driving exam, grab my permit and be out of the DMV by 9am. I would have been out earlier if I didn't look over my answers. As for the date of my driving exam (this is another joke for those of you who went to Spain with me, or heard of my superstitious encounters) is on December 12th. That is correct. 12/12. 88. 12/12/. Seeing a little eerie connection here? Additionally, my parents were wed on December 12, 1980. Yup. Kind of freaky.
I came home, exhausted, made myself breakfast, applied for the PERFECT job I mentioned earlier (after some toiling over cover letters, resumes, and attaching things with my buddy Tony) and passed the EEEFFFF out from 11am until 4pm. Five hours of refreshing sleep. I checked my cellphone and noticed I had a call. It was some female from Meditech or Meditac inquiring about my resume. Now, I've applied for so many jobs and I have kept track of 95% of them on a nice neat list and I had NO recollection of this Medi-whosey-whatsis so felt embarrassed to return her call right away because I didn't want to be the oaf who asks, "So what did I apply for again?" I dunno. I'll grow balls and call her back and make it sound like she wasn't specific enough considering a lot of job postings online will not list the employer. Or that I'm unfamiliar with online application systems because there are so many of them, etc. So yeah, hopefully a few more calls will stream in and I can land a nice job. Only time will tell.
Well, this shiny computer box is making me, I dunno, something, and I would like to be a girl and purchase products at my local Consumer Value Store.
This entry was brought to you by the numbers 8, 12 and the letter A.