Diary of a SubUrban Housewife

So, Beth....What's New?

So to say that 2005 has been action-packed and full of adventure would be ummmm...the understatement of the day.

Let's see...in no particular order....(man I love ellipses)...my cat died and then came back to life, I had my own brush with death (OK, perhaps that's a bit melodramatic, but that's how it felt inside my head), found a new job, and quit my old one.

The whole dead cat thing put me through the wringer.

Then my whole brush with death thing on the heels of my cat happened at the very same time things were heating up with the whole new job thing and put that whole thing into serious potential jeopardy. As we all know now, that turned out just fine in the end and the drama--though dire at the time, was at least short-lived.

Well, then the whole new job thing. I'm so excited, scared, excited, thrilled, and validated I can hardly stand to be near myself. But that had a major potential wrinkle as well. You see, my new employer requires a drug test. And...well...I smoke pot.

Not a lot and not all the time, but I've pretty much been smoking pot since I was about 15 years old.

You see, growing up, my dad was in the music business. He smoked pot. His wife smoked pot. My sister and I smoked pot. Never all together, but we all did it. In fact, we were allowed to smoke pot. But we were not allowed to smoke pot and drive. (How's that for parental controls!) So, my sister and I would bong-out every single night in the bathroom that adjoined our bedrooms.

And because my parents were stoners too, there was always a supply of delectable munchies readily available.

So I need to take a drug test for this new job. And as I said, while I don't smoke pot all the time, and frankly these days less than ever, I did indulge a mere five days before I got my written offer letter which included the info on the drug test.

So there I was, one foot on cloud nine about the new gig, and the other one mired in fear over passing the drug test.

I'll report now that the old man was completely and totally unsympathetic to my plight. But what do you expect from someone who has been sober for like a gazillion years?

So I called GraceDavis. Ha! I will now share Grace's words of wisdom:

"I'm wondering if you have time to see your family practitioner and ask if s/he could prescribe medical marijuana for you? Then if (IF) you test positive you can whip out your card or proof of prescription and say hey, this is legal. And they may say, "Missy, this script is dated March 28...and you can say it's a refill and you can't produce the original, or if you're afraid they'll call your doc directly you could cop to self medication and the script validates your use."

She then goes on to add:

"Here's a link for the indications for medical marijuana:

http://www.drugscience.org/pt/ca1.htm

From this site - "cancer, anorexia, AIDS, chronic pain, spasticity, glaucoma, arthritis, migraine, or any other illness for which marijuana provides relief"

We can thankfully scratch off the first three, number 5 and hopefully 6 and 7. We're loving the last clause and I'll betcha you can work chronic pain. And you're smart, and all the smart people have migraines.

If you go this route, hopefully you have a hip doc, like ours. If you were here, I'd send you to my guy who would willingly do this.

Otherwise, you poor monkey, you're hyper hydrating and pissing it all away. We hope."

Well, alas my GP is not the type that would write me a prescription of this ilk, so instead I stressed. And scoured the net. I now know more about peeing in a cup than I ever wanted to.

And I bought one of those at-home do-it-yourself drug tests that parents who suspect their kids are "using" can use to test them.

I tested myself last night and came up clean. Ha! I still have a week and a half before I go to get tested so it's all good there.

Then there's the whole quitting my job thing.

Let me start by saying this is the most fabulous thing I've ever done...and I've done a lot of fabulous things in my day.

But I've been one big ball of tears the entire week. While I will not miss my boss for one single nano-second, I will miss most of my fellow co-workers.

Because of the nature of my job, I am one of perhaps five people in the company who knows absolutely every single one of the 250 employees. I meet each new person on their first day and provide them their access card and all kinds of info about the office/building/area.

Over the course of the last week I have spent time talking with almost every single one of them. There have been cards, gifts, flowers, lunches, drinks parties, and long, heart-felt chats. I've cried or otherwise welled up more in the last week than I thought was possible.

To the last one, each has thanked me, congratulated me, and been altogether encouraging and positive about the huge step I'm about to undertake.

And though none of them knows about or reads my site, I will say here and now, thank you to all of them. The thing is, when you work in the same place for 14 years, as I did, you get to know people. You see them grow and mature. Watch them meet their mates and marry them. You're pregnant together. You share their joys and losses. And they share yours.

Plus, I met my husband while working at this office, so if for no other reason, it gives me a lot to be thankful for. And there are a lot of other reasons.

So I will not miss the job, but I will miss these people. Miss the easy camaraderie. They will not be lost to me, but will not be an every day there when I walk through the office.

But I look forward to sharing that with new and different people.

So that's what's going on here.

And because I'm one big ball of emotional goo right now I'll just take a moment to thank each and every one of you who stops by here, whether you're a regular, brand new, or just stop in from time to time.

I write here for me. But I look forward to sharing it with ustedes.

Posted by beth at March 31, 2005 11:08 PM