BP days four and Five
Starting a new job on day 4 of BP is an interesting thing. You get to meet a whole platoon of new and interesting people, and then frighten them in new and exciting ways.
"Nyphupa tuba meab ku!" No, my friends, this is not the language of some strange, isolated Polynesian tribe, nor is it Klingon. This is BP, spoken to a whole group of new co-workers who are all still forming opinions of the new guy. It means "nice to meet you", but probably sounds eerily close to "MY FACE WILL EAT YOU".
In the meantime, the guy who hired you with a full face five days ago is now wondering how he missed the fact that you are not actually human but something that might have escaped from a nearby pharmaceutical research lab... something that may have even FED ON ITS SCIENTIST CAPTORS PRIOR TO ESCAPE.
Poor planning left me with no money and no lunch on day four. At lunchtime, I bought a Dr. Pepper from the vending machine and then proceeded to totally make an error with the start of my steroid regimen. 50 mg / day. Eat with food. Ok, 50 mg right now, on an empty stomach. not 2 spaced out, let's just get all flustered and play games with our body, shall we?
The result was waves of hot flashes, an unpleasant head rush similar to approaching the LD50 threshold for caffeine, and an entirely surreal finish to the day capped with a 75mph drive home for 35 miles complete with a five mile stretch of 747's flying over the highway on final approach to Detroit Metro Airport.
Visual aid:
I packed a lunch today.
I decided I'd take one pill with lunch and one pill with dinner.
Today I had to go an hour earlier and that put me within theoretical range of rush hour traffic. With my left eye randomly filling with tears, the idea of a 35 mile journey at 75mph with no depth perception was filling me with dread. I gave myself an extra half an hour of driving time in the event that it there was either going to be a re-enactment of a mad max movie or more likely that i'd have all the depth perception of Colonel Tigh.
Work started okay until I realized the lack of a real lunchroom (most of the office is telecommute - once training is over it's only one day a week in the office) meant I was most likely GOING TO HAVE TO EAT A BOLOGNA SANDWICH IN FRONT OF PEOPLE. PEOPLE WHO MIGHT NOT WANT TO SEE A LAB EXPERIMENT FEASTING ON WHAT COULD ONLY BE HUMAN FLESH. MY GOD WHAT IS IT DOING
Ahem.
Seriously though, with no microwave in the office, heating up a bowl of spaghettios or chili is out of the question. The ubiquitous bologna sandwich was the economic and only possible choice.
I lucked out when both the other guys in the room went out to get burritos for lunch. I had the room to myself. It was time to eat.
The problem is, in order to eat something like a standard issue bologna sandwich, I have to pry my lips on the left side of my face open with two fingers so I can properly use my incisors to bite. then you have to kind of stuff it in there, and go nuts with your tongue to make sure you don't have bread and mayo all over your immobile smile. then you might have to stick a finger in your mouth to get the food out of the gap between your cheek and gums.
This is not a pretty thing for me to witness.
In walks the female sysadmin, leader of our pack, just as I am in the most SAVAGE and frightening part of stuffing the sandwich into my mouth, two fingers splaying my lips open on the left side of my face, teth bared wide, emitting a frustrated and most likely INHUMAN groan of frustration.
Without a word, her greeting falling dead on her lips, she looked - puzzled, horrifed, mortified, frightened, bewildered - and promptly spun on her heel and exited.
GREAAAT!
Feeling low, I unscrewed the cap on the steroids, took one, and went out to my car to have a smoke. Monsters do not congregate with the other smokers. They hide in their dark cars where they are of no risk of being seen and inducing coronaries in the elderly or certain autism in children.
Lower still, coming in from outside I used the restroom in the office complex. The mirror inside is too big to avoid. Still, given what I saw in that mirror, in that moment.. I might not even be able to shave tomorrow. HP lovecraft once described his "ancient ones" as being so horrible to look upon that the characters in his stories often became permanently bonkers after even a chance glimpse. I am now convinced he must have time-traveled and seen me somewhere in the last few days.
And after we got back to training, the steroid began to kick my ass. Not just kick it, thrash it and maim it. My face felt like it was on fire, my concentration went out the window. I was accidentally closing reference and tools pages mid-task, all while confronting a great and GIANT wave of fatigue that nearly had me passing out. Even short of breath. I'm sure I was inspiring my co-worker who was training me.
I drove home, braving the gauntlet of 75mph rush hour traffic to blasting German metal music on the CD player. Tinnitus be damned. The guy has got this really deep monster voice, not screaming... just deep and monster-ey. He sounded like I feel.
"Nyphupa tuba meab ku!" No, my friends, this is not the language of some strange, isolated Polynesian tribe, nor is it Klingon. This is BP, spoken to a whole group of new co-workers who are all still forming opinions of the new guy. It means "nice to meet you", but probably sounds eerily close to "MY FACE WILL EAT YOU".
In the meantime, the guy who hired you with a full face five days ago is now wondering how he missed the fact that you are not actually human but something that might have escaped from a nearby pharmaceutical research lab... something that may have even FED ON ITS SCIENTIST CAPTORS PRIOR TO ESCAPE.
Poor planning left me with no money and no lunch on day four. At lunchtime, I bought a Dr. Pepper from the vending machine and then proceeded to totally make an error with the start of my steroid regimen. 50 mg / day. Eat with food. Ok, 50 mg right now, on an empty stomach. not 2 spaced out, let's just get all flustered and play games with our body, shall we?
The result was waves of hot flashes, an unpleasant head rush similar to approaching the LD50 threshold for caffeine, and an entirely surreal finish to the day capped with a 75mph drive home for 35 miles complete with a five mile stretch of 747's flying over the highway on final approach to Detroit Metro Airport.
Visual aid:
I packed a lunch today.
I decided I'd take one pill with lunch and one pill with dinner.
Today I had to go an hour earlier and that put me within theoretical range of rush hour traffic. With my left eye randomly filling with tears, the idea of a 35 mile journey at 75mph with no depth perception was filling me with dread. I gave myself an extra half an hour of driving time in the event that it there was either going to be a re-enactment of a mad max movie or more likely that i'd have all the depth perception of Colonel Tigh.
Work started okay until I realized the lack of a real lunchroom (most of the office is telecommute - once training is over it's only one day a week in the office) meant I was most likely GOING TO HAVE TO EAT A BOLOGNA SANDWICH IN FRONT OF PEOPLE. PEOPLE WHO MIGHT NOT WANT TO SEE A LAB EXPERIMENT FEASTING ON WHAT COULD ONLY BE HUMAN FLESH. MY GOD WHAT IS IT DOING
Ahem.
Seriously though, with no microwave in the office, heating up a bowl of spaghettios or chili is out of the question. The ubiquitous bologna sandwich was the economic and only possible choice.
I lucked out when both the other guys in the room went out to get burritos for lunch. I had the room to myself. It was time to eat.
The problem is, in order to eat something like a standard issue bologna sandwich, I have to pry my lips on the left side of my face open with two fingers so I can properly use my incisors to bite. then you have to kind of stuff it in there, and go nuts with your tongue to make sure you don't have bread and mayo all over your immobile smile. then you might have to stick a finger in your mouth to get the food out of the gap between your cheek and gums.
This is not a pretty thing for me to witness.
In walks the female sysadmin, leader of our pack, just as I am in the most SAVAGE and frightening part of stuffing the sandwich into my mouth, two fingers splaying my lips open on the left side of my face, teth bared wide, emitting a frustrated and most likely INHUMAN groan of frustration.
Without a word, her greeting falling dead on her lips, she looked - puzzled, horrifed, mortified, frightened, bewildered - and promptly spun on her heel and exited.
GREAAAT!
Feeling low, I unscrewed the cap on the steroids, took one, and went out to my car to have a smoke. Monsters do not congregate with the other smokers. They hide in their dark cars where they are of no risk of being seen and inducing coronaries in the elderly or certain autism in children.
Lower still, coming in from outside I used the restroom in the office complex. The mirror inside is too big to avoid. Still, given what I saw in that mirror, in that moment.. I might not even be able to shave tomorrow. HP lovecraft once described his "ancient ones" as being so horrible to look upon that the characters in his stories often became permanently bonkers after even a chance glimpse. I am now convinced he must have time-traveled and seen me somewhere in the last few days.
And after we got back to training, the steroid began to kick my ass. Not just kick it, thrash it and maim it. My face felt like it was on fire, my concentration went out the window. I was accidentally closing reference and tools pages mid-task, all while confronting a great and GIANT wave of fatigue that nearly had me passing out. Even short of breath. I'm sure I was inspiring my co-worker who was training me.
I drove home, braving the gauntlet of 75mph rush hour traffic to blasting German metal music on the CD player. Tinnitus be damned. The guy has got this really deep monster voice, not screaming... just deep and monster-ey. He sounded like I feel.