By: Gabriela Yareliz
I thought maybe they were moving out because there was so much noise in the hallway, yesterday. Yes, I am talking about my neighbors, the triplets. I thought maybe they were carting their sofa away. (Wishful thinking). I hadn’t heard a peep from the triplets. But today, they were back, and there was so much discord in the room that shares a wall with my dining room while I was in a WFH meeting. I then saw one of the teen triplets zoom past us in her scooter. Me, squinting like a dweeb because I forgot my glasses. (I am still not sure if forgetting my glasses made me miss something on our walk or if it made it more interesting).
I had gotten a final sale white linen dress I tried on today. It was a steal. Hilariously, while it zipped all the way, I realized that around my hips and thighs it is so tight. I cannot sit in this dress like a comfortable human. I know I can’t return it. So I guess I will wear it to something where I need to stand. If there is something I have learned about being a woman is that just because you can’t sit doesn’t mean it don’t fit. 😉
Turns out our new testing “center” (I use “center” lightly) is a kidnapper van for cruelty. These are the most painful PCRs I have ever experienced. The swab is like a switchblade. I think that swab touched my eyeball and made me cry. The savagery. *Holds paper and says is going to write a letter like the girl from White Chicks*
I filled out some HR forms today. I laughed when I thought about how when I was going to college, I wondered if I would ever know my social security number by heart. Ha. These were my concerns. But here we are. I wrote that thing like 40 times today. Also, I think this is the last time I mark single/unmarried on HR entry forms. Ahh, youth. I was worried about an ID number, when in reality, I know so much more by heart.
2 thoughts on “Switchblade PCRs, Standing Dresses and the Triplets Return”
When I stood in line to check into the US Army (i went in against my will as a slap happy civilian, came out a well trained battle field medic with a horrible attitude.) the guy in front of me was asked his Social Security number, which in 1971 was your Army id number. He did not know it. The army paper pushers went ballistic – everything ground to a halt for hours. It was at that time, July 2, 1971, that I knew our war in Vietnam was doomed.
Wow! Bob, you need to write a book. I would pre-order. Please do this. I am always fascinated by your experiences.
Also random update: Triplets are moving. The end of an era.