It’s just a life story, so there’s no climax
[*this post was written sunday, but friendster was
down for maintenance]
Songs of the hour: Assorted Okkervil and Devendra banhart.
Sorry for the silence. I got really sick last week,
spending last weekend in a feverish delirium dreaming of trees growing in the
south pole whose branches drooped against the ground so heavy they held the
whole world aloft. The ear infection also brought dreams of little lava worms
burrowing back and forth from ear canal to throat leaving bright orange tracers
in the darkness of the imagined cranial internal. Wasn’t pleasant. It drove me
to leave work early on Monday and go to a doctor, something I haven’t done
since Joss was born. Few days on antibiotics, and good as new, save a few more
scars on the ear canal scar-pile. Three cheers for healthcare, no?
Work is steady as she goes. I still love it. Working
with a lot of 70+ elderly, I meet the most fascinating people (an accountant
that worked on the federal budget with the Kennedy administration; a McCarthy
era NSA agent who served as a Russian translator—he had some enlightening
stories to tell. These guys are awesome). I don’t think I’m actually supposed
to have lunch with the subjects, it’s not professional or something, but
sometimes it just works out that way and I’m not sorry. I love these people.
I also just finished the 3 day
extravaganza of “Clinical Research Coordinator Orientation”, even more boring
than it sounds, and talking to the other coordinators about what they do, I see
how lucky I am. Half of the research at Duke is sponsored by pharmaceutical
companies, and the paperwork involved in those contracts, the insurance company
stuff, or God forbid devices
instead of drugs… I’m so glad my salary is paid by the NIH instead of Pfizer I
practically have a new lease on life. Did you know, that if you have knee
issues and qualify for replacement surgery, you can sign up for a knee prosthetic
study to save out of pocket costs, and then the doctors will take you in for
surgery, put you under the knife, and then may or may not actually put in an
implant? If you’re assigned to be a control, you get fake surgery. Fakury. To
be fair, I get it. Measuring the placebo effect is necessary. You know going in
you may not actually get a knee replacement. At the end of the study, unless
the device was somehow harmful, you’ll have the option to actually get it
implanted. But still, you know?
That’s not really something I want to do.
Anyway. My spare time is spent Cary ,
house/apartment hunting. I want to be settled into a new school district by
summer’s end, preferably in a neighborhood where the 8 year olds have some kind
of adult supervision and not brass knuckles. Closer to Duke would be nice. Is
that too much to ask? Apparently, unless $1600 a month is in my price range,
which clearly, it isn’t. The most promising thing found so far is in
and I’m staring at the phone willing the owner to call (Call. Call. Call.) currently to no avail. It’s such a hassle. But every time Joss
gets hit/knocked down/robbed of something else by the neighborhood terrors, my
resolve hardens.
On a happy note, the little darling is actually going
to get out of the 4th grade. His new teacher, who I have a mad
parent-crush on, has been wonderful for him. His grades have gone up in both
math and reading, he’s more attentive, there’s less disrupting—it’s wonderful.
He actually said something academically ambitious—he wanted to get an “A” on
his Call of the Wild book
report. AND he finished the book. Ok, so at least a third of it was read to
him, but he did read a lot of it so I need to pay off that bribe to encourage
more reading. He’s been doing a lot better lately. I can only imagine what a
better environment will do to help him. (Call.
Call. Call).
Call.
Okay, honestly, this house
hunting business is so distracting I’ve abandoned this post about a dozen times
to look through Craig’s list, the N&O, and a plethora of real estate companies.
I’m not going to even pretend to be focused on blogging.
One day, I promise, I’m going
to think something and then I’m going to tell you about it. Right now, life is
all kinds of in the way. I’m also thinking constantly of other people’s weddings
and other people’s soon-to-be-born babies and even though I’m not calling you
interrogating you about said things, I’m thinking these questions loudly hoping
you answer. Answer.
