L-M-N-O-Pee
So, this morning I drove clear across the Twin Cities to pee in a cup not once, but twice. I like to be thorough. Why did I do this? Because I got a new job.
While helping Jason look for work, coupled with the slowness of my current Workplace, and calculating the odds that I could survive another round of layoffs, I decided to see if there was anything out there for me.
There was, I applied, life moved on. Then the phone rang, I got an interview and things got interesting. A week later, I accepted a new position. Then I immediately started freaking out by asking Jason such ridiculous things like, “I do have a new job, right? I’m not going to give my notice at my current job, show up at the new one, and have the receptionist stare at me blankly, right?” (I think Jason deserves some kind of Patience While Dealing With Wife’s Inane Questions medal.)
I gave my notice at work yesterday. It’s really going to be hard leaving because the people were wonderful and the position was perfect. But this new position is even more perfect and I’m sure the people are going to be just as wonderful.
Plus, they outsource their drug testing to a nice, patient man. When I went to take my test, he handed me an enormous cup with a line drawn at the halfway point. “Fill it to here,” he said. Of course, I DIDN’T, so I got to spend an hour in the waiting room chugging tiny paper cones of water (“Don’t drink more than 10,” the guy admonished, so I drank 9½).
When it came time for Round 2, I STILL didn’t get it to the line and that was when I panicked. “I didn’t make it this time, either!” I practically shrieked at the guy when I emerged from the bathroom, convinced he thought I was tampering with the sample.
After a few tense moments of hanging over his shoulder watching him fill the vials right up to the minimum-needed line, he assured me I was OK. Thank god.
The kicker is that I’ve been back to work for less than an hour, and I’ve already gone TWICE, both times enough to fill that stupid, giant cup tenfold. Ridiculous.
