"Urine analysis complete," announced the shipboard computer.
Orientation done. Drug test passed. I go in for a badge Thursday. Monday begins a four week training course.
*plonk*
Sorry, that's just my Pre-Traumatic Stress Syndrome, finally letting me go.
I can't believe they asked me about my GED: my non-high school high school diploma. They wanted to know when it was issued. I said, "1987 or 1988, probably."
It'll have to do.
The best part was out-professionalizing the recruiter. I showed up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, at 10 AM today. I stopped and asked a woman where new hires went to report to security.
She was the recruiter, outside on a smoke break.
We had a laugh and I showed her my notes where I had written down "May 1 10 am". She noted that her usual times to run orientation were 9:30 or 1 PM. I said I had no idea how I had gotten it wrong, but agreed to return at one.
Fifteen minutes later, my cell phone buzzed. It was her, asking me to come back. Her usual scheduler was absent and she was working on half a brain that day (I know the feeling). We shared another laugh and I turned the nose around again.
Orientation was surprisingly painless. Many companies test your patience and boredom resistance at the orientation, with evil videos and paperwork. The video was short, filmed there at the Nashville call center, and the paperwork was only mildly evil. I was given to a support technician to watch him do his thing for 30 minutes. The customer service paperwork (all computerized, of course) was quite complex, but with four weeks of training, I should be okay.
I am so tweaked.
I celebrated with... more White Castle. Only five burgers this time. And it wasn't so much celebrating as trying desperately to stop my blood sugar from plummeting. I need to get that ATM card down here: I'm sick of starving myself every Sunday night after drastically underestimating my potential costs. Like Kinkos. I was rather surprised at how quickly twenty cents a minute adds up: all I needed to do was log onto my webmail, download a file and print it out. First I took a card and put two dollars on it. Then I logged into my email and saved the Word file. Then I had to get up and put more money on the card to print it out. There was a line.
Um, it cost more than I thought it would.
Also, I had no coffee this morning. The gas station's small size was $1.20 and I had $1.08 and no more time to search. I swear, by the time orientation and the drug test was done, and I had found a bank to make a withdrawal, I seriously thought I was getting the D.T.s. Either that or, again, the plummeting blood sugar.
Frankly, given all that, I am probably lucky I'm here posting this.
Oh, wait. I *am*. :-D
So, last night I slept on a bed, had a nice talk with Keith (Moon, the drumming Baptist roommate's nom de blog, who is a really nice guy: he's so nice, I feel seriously bad that he can't use my room for his drum kit), and... realized I forgot to pack the alarm clock. Gah. How did I forget that? I am convinced it is still in my car and I am just too dumb to find it. Fortunately, Keith had to pull an all-nighter (exam time) and he very kindly woke me at 8:30 AM.
*phew*
And when did I start liking pickles on hamburgers? I can narrow it down to two things: how hungry I am when I finally order food, or that Good Eats episode on homemade pickling.
3 comments:
I love the way blogger forces you to type the anti-spam code every damn time you try to leave a comment.
I ate two beef hot dogs the other night. They were the first hot dogs I've eaten in about four years. I eat beef maybe twice a year. Damn they were tasty. Maybe next time it'll be White Castle ... if I can find one. That'll probably have to wait for a trip down-state.
Warning: White Castle, like Scotch, cigars and spray-on cheese, is an acquired taste. ;-)
"Down-state." Heh. Y'all talk like a native.
Downstate is a term used by Yoopers too. I started using it when I lived up there, even though it was only for 4 months or so.
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