As if the whole episode with my five year old, Lanes, being in the ER over the weekend was not enough, I was in for another shock. I took Monday off from work to take my little munchkin to our family doctor, you know, the one we took two years to find.
Despite having an appointment, we waited an hour and half, through lunch time (yes, that went well), for him to promise to make an appointment with an allergist. The net result of all this is that we literally have to wait a month of Sundays to see the specialist.
I now proudly sport an Epipen with me wherever I go with Lanes. Let me tell you, it's not a good look. It doesn't help that as a general rule of thumb, I should not be left around sharp objects.
I hate to carry around a handbag, but now I have to because of my track record for being clumsy. It would be unwise to keep the Epipen in my back pocket—I’d definitely jab myself. As we all know, the last thing I need is an accidental dosage of adrenaline. Well, perhaps it's not such a bad thing.
As much as I enjoyed not having to wake up at 5am to rush to work that day, I was really concerned that by not showing up, everyone in the office would be back logged. My boss assured me that everything was fine on the Western front so to speak.
I waltzed into work on Tuesday, and everyone was really great about my absence (another person was sick on Monday and so they were down two people--they didn't tell me because they thought I had enough to worry about with Lanes).
We had a huge volume of work come in on that morning. We were all working steadily and racing the clock, when some man walked in shortly after 2pm with our regional manager from Quebec.
The thought flickered in my mind that it was unusual for her to be in our office that day since she had just been by recently. However, the idea fizzled and popped in my head like a fly bouncing off an electric swatter when I saw the paperwork before me.
The man, who looked like a bouncer who had seen better days, called us all in for a meeting. We begrudgingly left our files and turned our phones off. I had no idea who he was or why his chin kept quivering. It hardly seemed like the time for a public nervous breakdown.
Our minds on the time and the work we had before us, we only half listened to what he had to say at first until he said they were closing down our branch effective immediately! Say what now? Did they not know there was work to be done?
I turned to a colleague to ask if it was a joke, because as fond as I am of pranks, there really was no time for hilarity, particularly in such poor taste. Before we knew it, those of us on contract were ushered into one room, and the rest of the staff was herded into another.
We got apologies for the sudden news and then ten minutes to pack up. The bouncer guy was no longer crying, I guess it was part of his act, and he was watching us like a hawk to make sure we wouldn't do something scandalous on our computers.
Why the big muscle was brought in is a mystery because there were only eight of us in this branch and I was by far the largest person there. I'm five foot four inches (at least when my hair is poofed up) tall. We had one token guy who was slightly taller than me but really, even I could take him on. I do have delusions of grandeur.
As part of our 'compensation', we were offered a ride home, and as I'm the only genius who didn't drive to work, they got a cab for me.
The cab driver was very friendly and he asked me if I was some big shot because two people came out to make sure that I was not charged a penny for the ride.
I laughed and told him, it was quite the opposite in fact and explained what happened. All he said was 'welcome to North America! Now you have had the complete experience!'. Hmm.
After spending a day to digest what just happened, because it all seemed to take place in fast forward, I decided everything happens for a reason. I did learn a lot about dealing with interesting characters in the work place and I also now know that I can learn just about anything at my next job.
Plus, now I finally have that elusive wispy thing called Canadian work experience, even though it all went up in a puff of smoke. Waking up early and coming home late with the commute also was proving to be much, no matter how good the company or the job was, so all is well that ends well.
I remain sad for my coworkers who spent years at this business. I'm taking the next few weeks off because we have a trip to the motherland planned any old how. I'll let the job search begin in a month.
To 'celebrate' or rather to commiserate, I had an outing with a friend of mine yesterday. She had the day off and the kids were packed off to school so we had a lovely lunch with fancy pink drinks and all.
Of course who has to call in the middle of all that? My nutty sister. She is determined for us to confuse our geriatric relatives by showing up in identical dresses to a party. I'm sure the last thing our gene pool needs is for us to splash around the party looking like the Bobbsey Twins in stereo.
She called to say that she misdialed my number and had asked the unsuspecting man she called by mistake his dress size. Typical. In the end, she was too busy laughing at her faux pas to get my measurements, which perhaps might be yet another blessing in disguise.
After realizing I had no fancy phone upon which to check my e-mail to see an outfit she found for us, she decided she was done with the call and I was mercifully released.
I returned to my half eaten burger and I assumed that because she called me back immediately once not twenty four times like she normally does that she found some other hapless soul to traumatize in the greater Seattle area.
With that I must sign off and start to think about packing, you know, make mental checklists. My meticulous spouse, P, will no doubt orchestrate and follow through with the actual physical packing. He's far more proactive. More musings from BC next week...
More, soon! Your stories bring joy and light into the hearts of all of us, and your silence is worrying.
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