It’s just a life story, so there’s no climax

[*this post was written sunday, but friendster was down for maintenance]

Songs of the hour: Assorted Okkervil and Devendra banhart.

Sorry for the silence. I got really sick last week, spending last weekend in a feverish delirium dreaming of trees growing in the south pole whose branches drooped against the ground so heavy they held the whole world aloft. The ear infection also brought dreams of little lava worms burrowing back and forth from ear canal to throat leaving bright orange tracers in the darkness of the imagined cranial internal. Wasn’t pleasant. It drove me to leave work early on Monday and go to a doctor, something I haven’t done since Joss was born. Few days on antibiotics, and good as new, save a few more scars on the ear canal scar-pile. Three cheers for healthcare, no?

Work is steady as she goes. I still love it. Working with a lot of 70+ elderly, I meet the most fascinating people (an accountant that worked on the federal budget with the Kennedy administration; a McCarthy era NSA agent who served as a Russian translator—he had some enlightening stories to tell. These guys are awesome). I don’t think I’m actually supposed to have lunch with the subjects, it’s not professional or something, but sometimes it just works out that way and I’m not sorry. I love these people.

 I also just finished the 3 day extravaganza of “Clinical Research Coordinator Orientation”, even more boring than it sounds, and talking to the other coordinators about what they do, I see how lucky I am. Half of the research at Duke is sponsored by pharmaceutical companies, and the paperwork involved in those contracts, the insurance company stuff, or God forbid devices instead of drugs… I’m so glad my salary is paid by the NIH instead of Pfizer I practically have a new lease on life. Did you know, that if you have knee issues and qualify for replacement surgery, you can sign up for a knee prosthetic study to save out of pocket costs, and then the doctors will take you in for surgery, put you under the knife, and then may or may not actually put in an implant? If you’re assigned to be a control, you get fake surgery. Fakury. To be fair, I get it. Measuring the placebo effect is necessary. You know going in you may not actually get a knee replacement. At the end of the study, unless the device was somehow harmful, you’ll have the option to actually get it implanted. But still, you know? That’s not really something I want to do. 

 Anyway. My spare time is spent house/apartment hunting. I want to be settled into a new school district by summer’s end, preferably in a neighborhood where the 8 year olds have some kind of adult supervision and not brass knuckles. Closer to Duke would be nice. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, unless $1600 a month is in my price range, which clearly, it isn’t. The most promising thing found so far is in 

Cary

, and I’m staring at the phone willing the owner to call (Call. Call. Call.) currently to no avail. It’s such a hassle. But every time Joss gets hit/knocked down/robbed of something else by the neighborhood terrors, my resolve hardens.

 

On a happy note, the little darling is actually going to get out of the 4^th grade. His new teacher, who I have a mad parent-crush on, has been wonderful for him. His grades have gone up in both math and reading, he’s more attentive, there’s less disrupting—it’s wonderful. He actually said something academically ambitious—he wanted to get an “A” on his Call of the Wild book report. AND he finished the book. Ok, so at least a third of it was read to him, but he did read a lot of it so I need to pay off that bribe to encourage more reading. He’s been doing a lot better lately. I can only imagine what a better environment will do to help him. (Call. Call. Call).

Call.

Okay, honestly, this house hunting business is so distracting I’ve abandoned this post about a dozen times to look through Craig’s list, the N&O, and a plethora of real estate companies. I’m not going to even pretend to be focused on blogging.

One day, I promise, I’m going to think something and then I’m going to tell you about it. Right now, life is all kinds of in the way. I’m also thinking constantly of other people’s weddings and other people’s soon-to-be-born babies and even though I’m not calling you interrogating you about said things, I’m thinking these questions loudly hoping you answer.  Answer.

 

 

 

 

Comments

[Amanda]

Jenny. I start to yell at you for not paying attenition to me and then I realize you have a kid and a life and a job outside Amanda (what?!!!)I am sooooo glad Jos FINALLY has a teacher who recognizes he is not "special needs" or whatever but simply a kid who needs more attention and some not pre-escribed care that does not fit onto the G.W. Bush the III handbook of Left Behind what-have-yous.I want you to get the call. I want you to be happy. I want you to not move far away from me b/c I am selfish and awful. Heart, heart, HEART you for writing a new post. I miss your voice and your laugh and your perspective. Can I kidnap you and make you live in my closet? No? damn.Okay, I'll have to settle for bridesmaid. (4 months! F*%k!)
manda