So, I was up all night last night and sorely tempted to stay in bed allll daaay long today. Contrary to this impression, I did get up and go to work, which is where all the ridiculousness started. I sat down and started updating my spreadsheets, all normal-like, just enjoying a plastic container of blueberries my Mom sent me with. Then it turned out that we had an interview coming in for my position, which went REALLY well (we ended up hiring her, I start training her tomorrow, but that’s another story), but took half the afternoon. So afterwards I went back to my desk expecting to get a few things done when I get a phone call- it’s HR. They inform me- get this- that I’ve been selected for random drug testing. I get to pee in a cup, yay! So I waddle down there to find a tall, blonde, frantic woman following me into the bathroom. The first thing she says to me is, “Are you sure you have to pee? Because I only have so many cups.” Ummmm….is it not her job to provide the cups? Plus, I’m pregnant. It can feel like Niagara Falls is waiting to be released only to give way to a few measly drops. Gaging my ability to pee isn’t first priority these days. Anyway, so I do my business only to have her bang on the door and inform me I only have 4 minutes, and then WALK IN ON ME. Seriously- I was only in there for like…2…max. Then she proceeds to chat about how I’m pregnant and should be able to pee on demand, etc. etc. etc. The BEST part, though, and the part I’m actually going to report to HR tomorrow, is when I told her I was on Prednisone so that if my urine came up all full of drugs she’d know what they were, and she said, “THAT IS A HORRIBLE MEDICATION.” In front of everyone- as if I’m some kind of horrible woman for taking it. It was as if the doctor said, “Here, to cure your horrible, uncomfortable mystery disease we have either a) steroids or b) fruit loops and kitten kisses,” and I said “Bring on the hard stuff.” Feeling the emotion rise in my everything I turned to her and said, “Thank you very much for judging my medication.” That is when everyone turned to look at me like, “Uh oh, Erin’s going postal.” The woman balked and floundering a bit said, “Oh, it’s just that my sister was on it for a long time and it turned out really badly.” To which I replied, “And amazingly, your second comment worse than your first. You should just stop.” Ok- so it’s a sensitive subject to me. I don’t want to be on medication, and the only other meds I Could take cost almost $300 a month. And my OBGYN and my GI have said it’s ok, and honestly, I just avoided a colonoscopy, and I’m just sick. And all of those feelings came to a head on this woman who felt the need to treat me like a criminal and then judge me openly. So anyway, after that, I went home.
We decided to take my Mom to Applebees for a THANKS MOM dinner treat (because she is so amazing, and takes care of me so well, and deserves some Applebees sometimes) and thus commences weird experience number two. The waiter comes up and takes our drink orders and follows it up with, “I’m sorry, I’m going to have to look at your rings.” I immediately felt confused, wondering if there were some new law in place that required me to be married to have a Pepsi. The waiter then GRABBED MY HAND and stuck his face down close to my rings- apparently he is looking for one for his finance. But still, he touched me, it was weird. He was actually a good waiter…but…the only word is weird. He asked my Mom if she didn’t like veggies because she didn’t finish all her millions of broccoli, and she said, “I ate a few trees.” In all seriousness he turned to her and replied, “In that case, would you like some dessert?” I about bust a gut. The crappiest part of it all was that John and I both got endless plates of various things and neither of us could make it through even ONE serving of dinner. The waiter said “we didn’t prepare.”
So yeah. It was a weird day with lots of weird feelings. And I think it’s probably about time to go to bed and just read some stuffs. And that’s it. Because I can’t deal with any more full bellies or pee cups or waiters touching me. I just hope hope hope I can sleep tonight- because I don’t want to be wandering a dark house looking for bagels at 1am again. Not good for me, yo.
