True confession. I'm going to risk grossing all of you out... but the main theme of this blog is raw honesty... so hear it goes:
I don't think I showered since Wednesday. Now, there are two reasons for this. One, the practical... I'm broke and can't afford to waste water, shampoo, conditioner, and soap for the sake of smelling like fresh picked flowers from a spring garden when I'm just going to alternate between laying on the couch and sitting up in bed. Two, I'm broke, can't afford to do much, and I live alone so I cannot commit a criminal act by olfactorally violating another. Who cares if I smell? (I really don't get that stinky! I promise!) And wait... shouldn't that be like 5 or 6 reasons...
Anyway... I read the paper I pilfered from my mother around 3 p.m. and I see the listing, once again, for the FREE "Spoken Word" Poetry event at an art institute in the neighboring city. I had forgotten that I had wanted to go. It was at 6 p.m. Deciding I had better do my best to prevent permanent fermentation of my being, I thought it wise to attempt to go.
Not sure if I really had any "weirdo arty" friends... I went through my contacts list on the cell phone... Adam! Yes! He's weird! He's a used-to-be-still-should-be musician friend of mine I hang out with about once or twice a month. I call him and leave a message with the details of the weirdo art event.
Shit! I should take a shower in case he calls back and says he wants to go. I raise my arm straight into the air and take a quick sniff... event or no event, I NEED to take a shower!
No sooner do I emerge from the shower and begin to place my terry turban on my head... the phone rings... second ring... I'm feeling urgency... third ring... I'm running naked to the bedroom to get my robe... fourth ring... I'm half-naked with my lime green robe draped on one arm... curtains open and desperately answering a call from a number I don't know.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is this Mona?"
"Yes."
"Hi. This is Patty. I'm calling about your resume for the Medical Office Receptionist/Medical Assistant position. Do you have a moment for a few questions?"
Hoping she doesn't wonder why I'm gasping for breath as I adjust my toppling terry turban, lime green robe and thoughts... "Sure, that would be great!"
Patty had emailed me this morning about my resume. Apparently, she only received my cover letter and had wanted to see my resume. This is GREAT! That means I must have written a damn good cover letter for her to take the time to contact me and seek out my resume. I'm feeling good!
She asked me some of the typical things, like "What interests you about this position," "What did you like most/least about your last job?"
I tell her that one of the things I liked about my job was that I didn't have any description or official duties and I just did whatever needed to be done, whether it be manage the books, call clients or clean the bathrooms.
"I was very impressed with your cover letter. Let me tell you a few things about the job and see if you are still interested."
Adam's calling on the other line... I'm struggling to listen to Patty as her words were chopped up by the beeps.
She was thrilled that I mentioned cleaning the bathrooms and explained that it was a small practice and everyone takes turns with those types of things. Fine! That's how it should be!
To shorten it up... things went very well over the phone! She asked if I would stop in and fill out an application, provide a copy of my driver's license and a reference from my last job. I can do that! And I will first thing Monday morning!
Adam and I left for the spoken word event. I was excited because I secretly want to participate in one! I was expecting something somewhat stuffy because it was being held at an institute of arts. What a trip! The event, although creative, was very disorganized, and frankly a little bizarre! The first poet began reading, the last minute booked band playing too loudly to really hear his voice... but I did hear "bowel movement" after a few stanzas! What? Some words and phrases taken out of context from the poets that followed: "whips out his cock," "sucking on the sugar tit," "from the ovary of a one-year-old," "the fish, wedged in my ribs, and licking my kidney..." These spoken word poems were supposedly about the author's response to local artworks about nature in the area. Did someone slip me some acid or is this shit really trippy? Adam and I exchanged a few "wtf" glances throughout the event. A couple of the poets actually managed to make some sense without talking about death, maggots, and genitalia... and were actually rather moving.
In steps my "arrogance," if you will. I can do this! In fact, I could do it better... and I think someday soon, I might.
We followed the event up with a trip to a hip sushi joint. And in the spirit of newness... I ordered a "Fried Spider" appetizer (fried soft shell crab)! Our meals and conversation were inspirational. I feel like I finally made a much-needed reconnection to who I am and what I am searching so desperately for.
I don't think I showered since Wednesday. Now, there are two reasons for this. One, the practical... I'm broke and can't afford to waste water, shampoo, conditioner, and soap for the sake of smelling like fresh picked flowers from a spring garden when I'm just going to alternate between laying on the couch and sitting up in bed. Two, I'm broke, can't afford to do much, and I live alone so I cannot commit a criminal act by olfactorally violating another. Who cares if I smell? (I really don't get that stinky! I promise!) And wait... shouldn't that be like 5 or 6 reasons...
Anyway... I read the paper I pilfered from my mother around 3 p.m. and I see the listing, once again, for the FREE "Spoken Word" Poetry event at an art institute in the neighboring city. I had forgotten that I had wanted to go. It was at 6 p.m. Deciding I had better do my best to prevent permanent fermentation of my being, I thought it wise to attempt to go.
Not sure if I really had any "weirdo arty" friends... I went through my contacts list on the cell phone... Adam! Yes! He's weird! He's a used-to-be-still-should-be musician friend of mine I hang out with about once or twice a month. I call him and leave a message with the details of the weirdo art event.
Shit! I should take a shower in case he calls back and says he wants to go. I raise my arm straight into the air and take a quick sniff... event or no event, I NEED to take a shower!
No sooner do I emerge from the shower and begin to place my terry turban on my head... the phone rings... second ring... I'm feeling urgency... third ring... I'm running naked to the bedroom to get my robe... fourth ring... I'm half-naked with my lime green robe draped on one arm... curtains open and desperately answering a call from a number I don't know.
"Hello?"
"Hi, is this Mona?"
"Yes."
"Hi. This is Patty. I'm calling about your resume for the Medical Office Receptionist/Medical Assistant position. Do you have a moment for a few questions?"
Hoping she doesn't wonder why I'm gasping for breath as I adjust my toppling terry turban, lime green robe and thoughts... "Sure, that would be great!"
Patty had emailed me this morning about my resume. Apparently, she only received my cover letter and had wanted to see my resume. This is GREAT! That means I must have written a damn good cover letter for her to take the time to contact me and seek out my resume. I'm feeling good!
She asked me some of the typical things, like "What interests you about this position," "What did you like most/least about your last job?"
I tell her that one of the things I liked about my job was that I didn't have any description or official duties and I just did whatever needed to be done, whether it be manage the books, call clients or clean the bathrooms.
"I was very impressed with your cover letter. Let me tell you a few things about the job and see if you are still interested."
Adam's calling on the other line... I'm struggling to listen to Patty as her words were chopped up by the beeps.
She was thrilled that I mentioned cleaning the bathrooms and explained that it was a small practice and everyone takes turns with those types of things. Fine! That's how it should be!
To shorten it up... things went very well over the phone! She asked if I would stop in and fill out an application, provide a copy of my driver's license and a reference from my last job. I can do that! And I will first thing Monday morning!
Adam and I left for the spoken word event. I was excited because I secretly want to participate in one! I was expecting something somewhat stuffy because it was being held at an institute of arts. What a trip! The event, although creative, was very disorganized, and frankly a little bizarre! The first poet began reading, the last minute booked band playing too loudly to really hear his voice... but I did hear "bowel movement" after a few stanzas! What? Some words and phrases taken out of context from the poets that followed: "whips out his cock," "sucking on the sugar tit," "from the ovary of a one-year-old," "the fish, wedged in my ribs, and licking my kidney..." These spoken word poems were supposedly about the author's response to local artworks about nature in the area. Did someone slip me some acid or is this shit really trippy? Adam and I exchanged a few "wtf" glances throughout the event. A couple of the poets actually managed to make some sense without talking about death, maggots, and genitalia... and were actually rather moving.
In steps my "arrogance," if you will. I can do this! In fact, I could do it better... and I think someday soon, I might.
We followed the event up with a trip to a hip sushi joint. And in the spirit of newness... I ordered a "Fried Spider" appetizer (fried soft shell crab)! Our meals and conversation were inspirational. I feel like I finally made a much-needed reconnection to who I am and what I am searching so desperately for.
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