Holy...brick?

Posted in | at 10:30 PM

Here is is...the moment we've all been waiting for. The uptown studio! I was so excited to leave my shift today I almost tripped as I ran out of the Walgreen's and got into the car. I call my landlord as I drive onto Lake Street. "Hey David! How are ya? Yup. I'm on my way." I take special note of the businesses and shops that crowd my new neighborhood on Hennepin Avenue. Yuppies stream in and out of coffee shops, artists hang out by the record shop, people walk their dogs in the park nearby. I envision myself living here and going to all the local poetry slams and farmers markets. I imagine the sunny days transforming into lovely evenings filled with Christmas lights and soft snow. I wasn't even phased by the fact that my short term car loan would be soon be coming to my end. Because in my studio, you can walk right outdoors and there will be a single bus line to take me either to work, the Calhoun district, or the downtown Minneapolis. Where else would I ever need to go anyways? Granted, I have never actually seen the apartment itself. When I came to take a look at it the first time, David was having some trouble finding the correct key to Unit #4.  "I hate that you came all this way for nothing. Here, let me show you the next unit. Each one in the building is structured the same." He shows me Unit #5 instead. I fall in love immediately. I then ask him for application which consists of him asking me a number of questions about my line of work, social habits, and ambitions. Then he offers me the apartment. When I get back to California, we spend the next two weeks corresponding via email and voice mail to negotiate the rent and change the lease. Two drawn out weeks and I am finally here. David had told me that his caretaker, Larry, would be meeting me to handle the signing. He is already waiting for me with the door open as I bound up the staircase to where the apartments are located. "Just find the paperwork. You can go ahead and take a look of you want. Its unlocked." So I continue down the hall as he disappears into his studio. It exactly the way I pictured it. A cute, medium sized studio with hardwood floors and a remodeled kitchenette. Plenty of closet space, good lighting, and a huge window to look outside and watch...a brick wall? No, no, no, this can't be right. I go out and look at the door number again. #4. Please, no. I go to the window and look up, down, left and right, desperately searching for some outlet where sun could escape in , or I could see out. But there was no way around it. My darling uptown studio is completely blocked. By a brick fucking wall. I decide to call a couple of friends known to have better judgment. Ones that weren't emotionally involved. "Don't do it, Jackie. You'll regret it", says one. "But you're only home at night anyway. You probably won't notice." says another. Finally Larry comes in with the lease ready for me to sign it. "Did you know that was there?" I point at the window. Larry looks uncomfortable. "Yea, I mean you still want it, right?" I tell him I need to go home and think about it. But  I don't go home and think about it. As soon as I am there I turn on my Dell Mini and vigorously search the craigslist ads for new postings. I make a several appointments for the next day to launch off the mission. That's when I notice the newly reposted ad and laugh."Now available. Cozy studio apartment on Hennepin. Hardwood floors. LARGE window."

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • Twitter
  • RSS
Read Users' Comments (1)comments

At least my scrubs are cute.

Posted in | at 11:15 AM

Ahh...the pharmacy. A job entailing accuracy, math, insurance companies, doctors on hold, and addicted patients. When I walked in the first day, I knew I was in for it. A line the size of kids waiting for an uice cream truck, and a float pharmacist that kept to himself. "Here you are!", the store manager unlocked the door to let me inside. "Good luck!". Good luck? I had hoped to pass off as a trainee the first several days so I could follow around some of the other techs and get used to how things worked around here. Afterall, I haven't been a technician in two years. But the truth came out, I had the most experience out of the all the other technicians, which was two. So there will be no training for me. I had to jump right in. "You know how to fill, ?", Ebony inquired. "Yea, I think so." I hurry to the filling station already feeling rushed, and pick up the first prescrption. Xalatan 0.5% opthalmic. That's in the fridge, right? I try to figure out where it would be in the pharmacy according to what room temperature it needs to be stored in. I find it and put in a blue tote to send off to the verifying pharmacist. Next is azithroymcin suspension. 150/5 ml. I find the recon section and wak over to find the correct bottle. An empty space hovers above the label where it should be. No problem, I tell myself. I will just have to use the next strength up and calculate the quantity difference to accomodate the  patients dosage needs. I rack my brain trying to recall the correct formula from my pharmacy textbooks. Then the phone rings. And rings. I take a deep breath and answer. "Walgreens Pharmacy, how can I help you?". "Yes, this is Olga calling from Dr. Craigs office. I a, authorizing refills for..." I type rapidly on the computer as Olga names off various drugs for numerous patients needing medication. I vaguely remember how to even pull up each of their profiles. I decide to just write it all down on scratch paper to deal with later. I hang to phone to see a myriad of red totes with prescitions wiating to be entered and filled. "Hey, nice scrubs. I'm Liz. A new face appears beside me to help with the pile. Thank God. "Thanks. I spent a fortune on them though."  The truth was I had procrastinated buying scrubs until the Sunday afternoon right before my shift. I ended up having to drive to Robbinsdale where a uniform outlet was still open for business. Then after two hours of trying on every navy blue pair of scrubs the store carried, I realized none of them were going to fit me correctly. That is until I tried on the expensive "Grey's Anatomy" brand. The only ones that run in junior sizes. I felt pretty sharp wearing it, too. So I dropped to $60 to purchase them. Now I could be at work a regular fashionista of the medical world. So I couldn't really mind too much the business, loudness, craziness of my new job. I have two friendly colleagues, a funny plarmacy manager that has a Minnesota accent so thick I stifle a giggle when I hear her talk excitedly, and a cute new guy that works out in the front of the store. I wonder if it counts as dating someone you work with if he's not in the pharmacy? The one fear I have is messing up someones medication horribly. And I do hope of that happens my scrubs will save me. " "That new technician gave me Viagra instead of Zyrtec! Now I have a skyrocked libido to deal with." "So whats the problem?", I will ask him. "Its for my 11 year old son!" Then he will notice what I am wearing. "Are those Grey's Anatomy scrubs, by the way? Very nice..."

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • Twitter
  • RSS
Read Users' Comments (2)
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)