soapboxdiner

At least it isn't February 1999

Hehee. That Alex made me laugh at myself tonight.

There I was, feeling all crappy and mopey and stuff, and she came along to remind me, Hey. It can always get worse.

And believe me, it has.

Like, oh.. say 1999. Let me recap the events of February 1999. I graduated tech school as a medical transcriptionist in December 97. Got a job the first day out of school at a major local hospital. I was working in a pathology department.

The other lady, my transcription partner, if you will, was out of school three months longer than me, got her job the same way I did, and thought she was some big shit. Didn't matter if she could differentiate between enumerate and innumerate or not. She was 50 damned years old, and no freaking 24 year old was gonna tell her she was illiterate. She badgered and harassed me to the point that, 18 months later, I finally had cried my last tear of frustration and put in for a transfer.

Nine months later, the department I transferred into closed down, leaving me and 30 other very qualified and dedicated people without jobs.

From there, I was quickly hired on with a law firm, out of luck really. I'd recently gotten a tax refund with which I took daddy to court. My paralegal (as I didn't hire a real lawyer - they were too expensive), worked with me diligently as I did much of the footwork in building my case. I impressed her, apparently, and she asked me to come on with her company and learn hands-on to be a family law paralegal.

When I was laid off at the hospital, I accepted her offer. Only, by that time, her husband had finished law school (sans passing the bar; he'd developed colon cancer and sleep apnea during that time frame and was battling for his health more than studying for the bar). So, he found a couple partners and hired me, and together, the four of us opened the doors of a family law practice.

That lasted three months, by which time business had gone downhill so fast, they had to either sell the firm or declare bankruptcy.

In the meantime, I'd signed up for the the first of the remaining four courses I required to get my AA attached to my medical transcription cert. Oh, and yeah. My girlfriend from the hospital (who after getting laid off went to SC to marry her now husband) introduced me to her son-in-law, four years my junior; and we "fell in love over ICQ."

So, to recap, two lost jobs, college, boyfriend. Three months.

Which all seems like fine times, until you see what laid beneath.

It was fine and going well. Much studying. Many, many nights of staying up until all hours talking on the phone with "my love." That is, until February 13th, 1999. See, on Feb 13, my love had ordered flowers for me, which were delivered that day. I called him when I got them, and we talked lovey talk (read: phone sex all night long) until both of us fell asleep. Four hours later, 7 am, I woke up, hung up the phone, and wandered blissfully (if blurry-eyed) out to the car to go to work.

Nostalgia is a bitch, my friends. And as I drove on that wet rainy morning, down the hill to the freeway, my ruminations distracted me from the road. Around the bend, going downhill at about 45 degrees, traffic was at a stop for a red light. By the time my sleep-deprived and wistful eyes saw the car in front of me, I was radiator-deep in its trunk.

I caused an accident in my 1995 Honda Civic LX. On February 14 - Valentine's Day.

So, we exchanged info and off I went to work (day 13 on the job, no less.) Called my insurance and got a rental while my Honda was in the shop getting repairs. Two weeks later, I got the car back. In that two weeks, I'd fallen even deeper in love with my ICQ beau in NC, and gotten so far behind in my school work due to our nightly chats, I failed out of the course. First and only time I'd ever failed anything academic.

The day I got my car back, my paralegal's partner came to the office to ask if he could borrow a vehicle to take his computer to the repair shop. I gladly proffered mine, as I knew and trusted him well and I was the first he'd asked.

I gave him the keys and told him which garage and which floor it was on, and off he went. A couple hours later, he returned, and gave me my keys back.

Later that afternoon, I went to my allotted spot in the garage, but my car wasn't there. I hunted throughout that garage, and still, no sign of my 1995 Honda Civic. Walked up to Paralegal Headquarters (only two buildings down from Law Firm Central) and said, "Paralegal Partner, do you by chance know where my car might be?"

Yes, I returned it right where I got it from. And so, search we did and no Two-toned steel blue Honda Civic was produced. Called the Police, "Hi, I'd like to report a stolen car, please."

Three hours later, they arrived to take my report. Hyperventilated and cried a bit, then took the Metro home.

Week later, BF came for our first and only visit. He turned out to be what I can only describe as a pedophile in training. Dumped him about 30 hours into his visit.

Week later, car turned up. Two weeks after that, lost the legal secretary gig and got a $1000 phone bill, several hundred of which was due to falling asleep on the phone on Feb 13.

So, February 1999:

Lost a job

Got another job

Flunked out of college

Got in a car wreck

Dumped BF

Got car stolen

Got car back

Lost another job

Got $1000 phone bill

I say, tonight's whining has to be better than Feb 1999. Don't you agree?

8:47 pm - 01.13.03
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