Okay, Dad!
This week has been busy and good. I have not had time to do things I want to do, much less stuff I have to do.
Last week, Kim and I went through more stuff and placed them in the garage. Bob has helped with his contributions of doors and sawhorses, tables and signs. Bob is a neighbor who likes to shop - so much so that he cannot walk in his house or garage or other house or garage, or storage sheds. He is a peculiar person and a hoarder. He and another neighbor have an ongoing feud. She calls him a queer and he calls her a fucking bitch. Bob is nearly seventy. He owned a beauty shop and was a nurse. He gets along well with older ladies, except Brenda. He lives with Jim, his partner of twenty years. I knew neither his orientation nor the fact Jim was his partner until I accused him them of bickering "like an old married couple." Jim is supposed to be retired but does construction work around town. He is not your stereotypical gay man and Bob is.
We planned to have the sale on Wednesday and Thursday until work finally called and said they needed me to come in on Tuesday and Wednesday. I need the money and could never earn that at a garage sale, so I agreed. That left us with a dilemma, as we could not have the sale on Friday, because we were attending an alumni luncheon in Duluth. So, we did the unexpected and had it Thursday and Saturday.
Monday, I was getting ready for my interview. I also called the Board of Social Work and asked them to give me the status of my application so I could update them at my interview. She said if I just submitted it it would be awhile. When I told her I submitted it in August, she was stammering and then said it was being processed. (I was visualizing her finding it, getting that "oh, shit" look on her face and rushing it over to the person who should have processed it weeks ago.) I was mad, but not surprised. As I have been struggling with anxiety lately, Monday was pretty much awash. Kim and I worked, but my mind was foggy. I was up late, studying for the interview.
Tuesday, was the day of the interview. I was trying to focus on my breathing. Anna said she was going to be there. I don't know what to expect with interviews. Some talk about preferred therapy models, some talk about what they are looking for. I know they were waiting for my licensure status and was prepared for that. I tried to give them a timeline as best I knew, and found that not only do they have to wait for my licensure, but credentialing as well. Because they cannot back-bill for when I was not credentialed. I'm certain my shoulders dropped, as I know they have been short-staffed for months now. It is not likely I will get this job and they don't open often...
After the interview, I went into work. Lorna and Amanda were there and tried to catch me up on things. Amanda left early and so did Lorna.
Wednesday was a nightmare at work. Nursing is short-staffed. We have a biter, who requires 3 or 4 people to toilet. Our psychiatrist stated there are some things we cannot change in people and stated he could return to his home on Thursday or Friday. I had to make preparations. When Lorna returned later, she stated our nurse manager was supposed to talk to the doctor Tuesday and let her know he cannot be a danger to others when he returns. I had already called the nursing home and told them they were getting him back. Through the day on Wednesday, this man was vocalizing constantly. At times the unit is more like an asylum than others. Wednesday was more like an asylum. I was tired when I went home and had to get ready for the sale.
Thursday I was up by 5 am and putting more things out. Kim and Bob came at seven. It was cold and walking on the concrete hurt my feet, ankles, knees, hips and back. The garage doors opened and as we put tables out, people began arriving. It wasn't supposed to start until 9 am.
The thing about garage sales, is that there are different types of shoppers. The first wave is usually the professionals. These are people that have their own shops or sales and collect underpriced items or offer you small amounts of money for your already underpriced stuff. I think they are governed by their own rule to never pay full price. One man approached my $20 carpet cleaner/vacuum and wanted to know if I would take $15. I suppose I should have jumped at it and he would have been happy. I did not. He asked me to meet him half way and I did better and said $17. He would not meet me half way. After plugging it in (it worked well) and trying it twice he walked away. "Meeting him halfway" in his eyes was giving him his price. It was apparent by the condition of this item that it was never used. I am not so emotionally attached to this that I cannot part with it, but unused carpet cleaners are quite expensive and he wanted a steal.
In the afternoon, Bob was gone and it was Kim and I. We had a couple of drugged up couples who stopped by and stayed too long. Kim and I both felt they had alternative motives. I think one couple was waiting for the crowds to die down so they could rob us. Kim agreed. The crowds did not die down and they left. The other couple may have been trying to take something and who knows, they may have taken something. If they needed to do that, then they have to live with themselves. I'm not losing sleep over it. Kim and I were both concerned about my safe being out there. It is too heavy to lift without either a Minnesota Viking who is not busy beating his kids, or a world class weightlifter so it is stuck in the garage. It houses only my journals yet people may believe it contains money. She was concerned for my safety and felt we should cover it better, but I decided to put a "sold" sign on it and call it good.
Friday we left for Duluth. We had a nice drive, looking at the colorful leaves against the backdrop of the evergreens. We had both driven the Brainerd-Duluth route many times and agreed the moisture over the past year had changed the landscape. A truck in front of us was making the drive interesting by dropping black bags sporadically on the highway. During my childhood, there must have been a story in the news about a baby - or babies - found in a garbage bag by the side of the road. Ever since then, whenever I see a garbage bag by the side of the road, I think of dead babies. I had told Kim about this and she now has the same thoughts (and thanks me very much!). So, we weaved around the dead babies dropping off the truck onto the highway until we turned.
A sense of calm dropped over us as we got to the top of the hill and saw Lake Superior. It has a way of doing that for some people. Kim talks about how she used to look forward to the "Mesaba" sign that indicated the road to my apartment. Our friendship started in Duluth and we both miss those times when she stayed with me at my apartment. We always got our work done but had time to talk. She credits me for her degree. For making her stay in school instead of dropping out like she wanted. For talking her through overwhelming tasks by making her eat elephants - one bite at a time, of course and stop trying to swallow it whole!
When we got to Grandma's (the restaurant where we met for the alumni gathering) we were both in danger of wetting ourselves. We joined the others afterwards, signing in and socializing our way through to the food. Bobbie Jo was full of smiles and hugs. We did not get along well during our time at school. She started the second year and was arrogant and immature. My heart went out to her later that year when a child she had a CHIPS case on died. She grew up a lot then and was less arrogant and more serious. She has her own issues now as I see on Facebook, but seems to have a new respect for me as well.
Next we saw Sig. Sig got up from the table and hugged us both. Sig was a nice guy who never got involved in the drama of the younger students - Kim and I did not either. He was already working in the field and is involved in the Duluth community as well. He is quiet and unassuming. We surprised him once going through the line to pay for parking and paid for his as well. He later repaid the favor. Kim wanted to set me up with him but neither of us could figure out if he was gay or straight. He did not speak much of himself. He was quite involved with domestic abuse issues after his aunt experienced them. He works with kids at one of the group homes in Duluth. He lives on Park Point. Park Point is a long island on the canal. Mostly the wealthy live there and it would be a great place to experience Duluth. Later Sig gave us his card and asked us to look him up when we are back. He is going to Russia to meet some Russian social workers who have come to Duluth to learn the Duluth Model. We will! Sig is good people. The kind you feel better for having known.
We sat at the two remaining seats in the room with social workers who graduated in the '70s. One is now working at a research place with cadavers and is no longer a practicing social worker. Another just retired. The retired woman's eyeliner stated she was either mentally ill, drunk or messed up on drugs. Kim and I both thought to ourselves and spoke to each other about it, hoping that is not what we have to look forward to. Kim won a t-shirt and I won a lunch box, both sporting the UMD logo. The cadaver guy won a nice black sweatshirt.
I was done with people by the time it ended. On my way out I spoke with Ann. Ann was a teacher who did not like me for some reason. My first paper in her class was returned to me straightened after having obviously been crumpled and haphazardly stapled closed to hide the red ink decorating the meat of my writing. The text book in her class was dry and most people in the class did not even open it after the first reading assignment. I openly criticized the book, stating that social work is interesting and this book was certain to change people's opinion of it. I should have looked to see if she in any way authored the text. It sucked. It is the only book Kim and I vowed to have a ceremonial burning of after school ended.
Ann is interested in pursuing gerontology in social work. Finally we had something to talk about! I told her about my job at a gerontologic inpatient unit and how I had learned a great deal there. She was excited and this felt like a discussion that would continue at some point.
Kim and I were ready to go. We were grateful lunch was free and we had more to spend on shopping, though we had little time. Our first stop was the Electric Fetus. It is a head shop smelling of incense with nice clothing, jewelry, scarves and some snarky intellectual items. I'm still confused about how head shops and intellectual items converge, but I will figure it out some day. I bought a mug adorned with famous first lines from literary classics and a couple of scarves. Kim thought I should splurge more because of the previous day's sales, but I was okay with smaller items. She got a nice sweater. We walked along Superior St. and discovered many shops were closed, despite their signs welcoming social workers. (Gotta love Duluth!) Finally we found a shop that was open on the third floor. Lady Ocalat's Emprorium. The name alone had us curious. After embarking the stairs in the beautiful old building, we found that Lady O's was a witchcraft shop. Since Kim had recently found she has an ancestor who was hanged in Salem Massachusetts for witchcraft, this was of particular interest. Rather than purchasing items to cast bad spells, I thought I would encourage some positive energy with a bar of soap and some candles. I'm a good witch, through and through. Kim purchased some tarot cards and I will expect a reading soon. Our next stop was Starbucks. We were both terribly thirsty and ready for a sweet to cap the Duluth experience. There were three spots open in front of Starbucks. They were for Pay Ahead parking. Hmm... Kim parked anyway and I was somewhat stressed about the fact she may get a ticket. We agreed we each get anxious about different things. I am a rule follower and she is something of a rebel with some social anxiety.
The way back was good for processing the experience. She agreed she would visit me if I moved to Duluth. I love Duluth and would not mind moving there, except it is farther away from my family. It is a small Minneapolis with a very academic atmosphere. There is a strong community there that is concerned with social justice. It is on the edge of what could be an ocean for all the eye can see and borders the wilderness of forest that is Northern Minnesota. The lake and nearby Canadian border give it an international connection. My kind of place.
I returned to my neurotic dogs wondering where in the hell I had gone! They missed me terribly. Unfortunately, my mailbox had bad news. The board had rejected my application again. They said I did not complete the required paperwork so it could not be processed. I had talked to Cheryl about my interim supervisor and she stated I did not need to send the additional paperwork they now said I did. I will place a call Monday morning straightaway and offer to hand deliver the shit! I had actually made myself a promise to screw clinical social work and pursue macro if I was rejected again. As soon as I recover from this week I will do so. I was upset and went to Kim's to show her the letter. Everyone we know who has had to experience the fucking board bullies feels abused. Kim has gone through this with me and I with her. They have too much power. I will speak with my state representative.
Liz, a.k.a. Liz-The-Best was having her going away party that night. Kim thought we should go, as did I. If you ever needed anything done at Northern Pines, Liz was the key. She would get it done. Liz is a nice person with heavy eyeliner who was completely indispensable. She found a job in St. Cloud, closer to her aging parents and was moving to help out on the farm. She has a great sense of humor, some rough edges, questionable office furniture construction skills, but is a wonderful person who tells it like it is! We will miss her. The party was at Last Turn. This is an old hotel believed to be haunted. It has the original fixtures and woodwork and is the social worker hang-out in Brainerd.
Although Kim and I agreed to only have a couple, we stayed too late for waking early for the garage sale.
Four a.m. came early and I was running down to the basement to find things for the sale. I had promised more items would be out on Saturday and so they were. Kim was over slightly after seven, with sleep lingering in her voice. She wanted to drink some coffee before we started so we did. I kept losing my coffee, setting it in unusual places. I should seriously sit still with my coffee in the morning until I have had enough to navigate through such complex tasks as scratching my head and asking questions. Only when Bob rang the doorbell did we get up and get to work.
The sale was busy again, but this time Jen and her daughter Ahnika came over in the afternoon and played guitar and sang. What a gimmick! We had live music at our garage sale. That was a first for me. We gave Ahnika a large bowl and she was able to earn some money. Neighbors came over and sat in the midcentury modern chair selling for $40 and the wicker chair selling for $10 and listened. They both have excellent voices and made the day quite interesting.
So, Dad, apart from the board meeting I have not yet talked about and the other activities throughout the week, this is why I have not had time to update my blog!
