Thursday, January 11, 2007

I hope the Christians are wrong, or I am toast

Today was the trip to Mclean Hospital in Belmont to earn $275 by answering questions and giving a little bit of blood. It was... interesting. Shrewd went with me, since a gut instinct combined with years of experience was telling me that I'd get lost on my own. So at 8:30 this morning, we headed out, stopping for some breakfast on the way out of town. The drive was one hour long. My appointment was at 10:30. Dunkin' DOnuts does not take an hour to toast two bagels and make some hot cocoa and chai tea.

I blame Shrewd.

Anyway, we sat and talked in the car by this really pretty pond and laughed at the geese who landed on the ice and seemed rather startled that it was not water. We shouldn't have laughed, though, the poor geese are probably incredibly confused by the earlier warm weather that is just now turning chilly. Still... it was pretty funny. We watched bluebirds in the trees.

Shrewd dropped me off fifteen minutes early, as planned, since we figured might as well- we weren't doing anything productive. Then she went off to Brandeis, which is pretty close to the hospital, to check out her suite and, apparently, turn on the heat so there might actually be some heat when they get there on Sunday.

So I waited for fifteen minutes in the lobby at the Admissions entrance, and then I waited ten minutes in the lobby at the Admissions entrance, and then finally the interviewer came and got me and led me through the catacombs beneath this hospital to her office, which was a three minute's walk away, and honestly, I'm so glad she didn't have me meet her there because there is NO WAY that would have gone right.

The interviewing itself was long, yes, but it wasn't too bad. They asked a bunch of questions about my history with depression, and my family situation, and how I respond to situations; there was a lot on my personality and some on what I was like as a child/preteen/etc (Well, etc if I'd ever been anything but child, preteen, now). I didn't even cry when I was talking, which was nice for a change. Then they took two test tubes' worth of blood and I was free to go. Shrewd picked me up at 1:45 at the entrance she dropped me off at and we headed out to get sushi at this restaurant in Waltham. It was good sushi, if expensive. One person's lunch should never cost $18, period.

Then I went to work, which was pretty boring except I got two Star Cards, which basically means that they're acknowledging my mad retail skills. I got one because I've worked in every area of the store- Men/Kids/Toys, Women, Accessories, and Housewares. I got the other because of "excellent merchandising technique" which means I put the stuff on the shelves in pretty arrangements. I was quite proud. Most likely too much so.

Anyway... One thing I noticed at the interview was that when she was asking about my childhood... I sounded like such a horrible child. For starters, I was incredibly violent as a kid. I fought with my siblings all the time. And yet, I never fought with anyone besides my brother and sister. I was also a pathological liar, I skipped school by pretending I was sick so I could laze around in bed all day, and I stole books from teachers. Never anything else, just books. When I was eleven Mummy noticed that I had books from teachers and ordered me to gather them all up, so we could return them to the school at least, if not to the individuals to whom they belonged. I did, and put them all in a box- or rather several boxes, there were like 150 to 200 of them.

Honestly, I think I had hit six of the seven deadly sins before puberty. Wrath, certainly, with the fighting; greed with the theft; sloth with the staying home from school; gluttony- I never got happy meals because I always could eat the adult sized version, this is probably related to my current weight issues; envy of like, everyone, mostly my sister's intelligence; and pride in things that I probably shouldn't have been proud of, like my "singing ability" which I thought was fabulous despite the fact that I inherited my grandmother's sense of pitch- and she can't manage Happy Birthday.

For the slow students, the missing sin is Lust. Shrewd says this is good, since it means I'm not Freudian. I've covered that since puberty, though, and as an adult I'm pretty sure I only indulge in that and envy with enough regularity to go to hell for it. I'll probably go to hell for other reasons, though, like not being Christian...

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