This is the truest way I can express that my high school self is still part of me: that I've just slept about 4 hours, had a poor week of sleep before that, have just started the worst part of my period, and am still wide awake this morning preparing to meet unreasonable expectations of society.
Paperwork day was yesterday, and I was supposed to already have my TB test completed. However, the only appointment they could get me was a day before that, and you have to wait two days to get the test read. Therefore I couldn't give them the paperwork. Their predictable solution? "Well bring it to us first thing in the morning, then!" You can add the offended prissy popular girl flounce and sulk.
So here I am. Couldn't sleep. Up an hour earlier than I would've been otherwise, because I don't know how long it takes to read a TB test, and I can't be late for training. Seven hours of training. During which I will need frequent bathroom breaks, so I don't bleed all over my nice clothes.
I've packed myself a sandwich and put on minimal makeup. I hate the makeup. It shouldn't matter what chemicals I plaster to my face. My face is just fine the way it is. This training area isn't where I'll be working, though, so best I make a superficially good societal impression. Or maybe it doesn't matter.
Off I go to the clinic, PB&J in tow. It's seven hours of training after I get the test results. They'll probably feed us, but you can never tell if there'll be anything for a vegetarian.
No comments:
Post a Comment