You know that awkward point where you’re sitting in a hospital hallway, with three empty water cups in your lap and you’re waiting to need to pee into a cup? Yeah, today was kind of like that, only less with the kind of and more with the exactly. But, let me press pause on my awkward waiting to pee into a cup moment and rewind back to when this all started.
And let me make a confession first too. I had no idea it would take me this long to find a job and I’ve been incredibly discouraged and fighting depression because of this fact. I really thought that I would breeze in here in March and be working by April. I feel like a fool right now.
After applying for jobs before we got here, I was offered one around the end of April. It was a flex position, no guaranteed hours, and not the greatest pay. Still, it would be something to do while B was off doing his long days of work. I began the process of starting my paperwork and had to wait 10 days to get a medical clearance appointment. That was also the same day I started getting my vaccinations up to date. Only, they couldn’t give me one that I needed because they’d been out of it for 3 weeks at that point. It took another week from there to get that last vaccine, but I finally got it, turned everything in, and got an appointment date for the end of the week to do my final paperwork.
The next night, I was offered a better job. This one is full-time, salaried, set hours, and just all around better. That tentative job offer came through in an email on 1 May. They told me not to make any plans based off it and to accept it within 48 hours. I accepted it immediately. And got the call the next day that the first job wouldn’t finish processing my paperwork like they had originally promised to do. So I settled in and waited super patiently for them to get back with me.
Hah. Ahem, super patient waiting involves calling every couple of days for an update after the first week has gone by, right? I mean, it’s only my job. It took them 17 days to contact me again. On 18 May at 2155 in the evening, I received an email. Congratulations again! This still isn’t a permanent job offer. But now you have 72 hours to access the link and 5 business days to complete the paperwork and will start work on 3 June. Except for the fact that their idea of 5 business days translated into 4 business days due to the time zone difference and that 3 June was a Sunday, I was super stoked to finally get this email. I spent the weekend and the early part of the week wrangling with their website and today I had another meeting to get more paperwork. And when I walked in, they told me that sure enough, that I had to take the drug test they were hoping to skate by without me taking.
Which brings us back to the hallway. I’d been escorted to the water fountain and had filled 3 small cups of water which I promptly drained. The line marked on the cup seemed dauntingly high. And I’d been scared into the knowledge that if I failed to make it I had to restart from the beginning. Peeing in a cup is a humbling experience. At least the girl waited outside the bathroom and not inside it with me. As I was getting ready to leave, she reminded me that it will take 3-6 weeks to get my results back.
And so I get to wait. 3-6 more weeks until I can start work. I’ll admit, I came home and cried. I was so looking forward to escaping my non-working status. I cried. I fumed over the wasted 17 days that could have had my sample being tested. I made peace with having a bit more free time. Now I can probably go to Germany with Brian in June. Now I don’t have to work on my birthday. Now I can keep going to the pool every day and swimming for two hours.
Three to six weeks. It’ll go by in no time.