Jobs Jobs JOBS! I told you I got an offer from Gold Cross Medical Transport down in Rochester, MN. I was all super psyched about it so I turned down three other jobs... bad idea. Turns out the offer is contingent on whether or not I can pass a lifting test. I (stupidly) didn't really think I'd have a problem with it. I saw that I had to lift 60 lbs here, 60 lbs there and maybe walk around to see how high my heart rate got up. TURNS OUT. I had to fling around a dummy that weighs 180 lbs in about a thousand different ways.
I thought I had prepared well enough, I ate my protein, I did some pushups. Turns out I can't lift 180 lbs from the ground up to my waist. I could do everything else but that was the kicker. I have one more chance to pass the test at the end of October so I've been doing deadlifts and whatnot. I broke the rules and ordered a pizza the other night. I knew it was time to really get my ass in gear when my mom came in the room and said, "Carolyn, you have pizza on your neck." So no more pizza until after my lifting test. If I pass, I won't start until November. If I fail, well... then I crawl back to the jobs I turned down and beg for them to take me back.
On the poor decision front, I shelled out some big bucks for tickets to see the Monkees in November. Or what remains of the Monkees, anyway.
I was obsessed with the Monkees when I was in high school. I watched it every day after school until Channel 45 decided it wasn't as popular as Everybody Loves Raymond. PSH. My favorite Monkee was obviously the most talented one, not to mention the most handsomest. Mike Nesmith. His post-Monkees career included inventing MTV, inheriting his mom's white out fortune and officiating A. Whitney Brown's wedding. (A. Whitney Brown was a writer for SNL for many years. WORLDS COLLIDING!)
So on the bright side, even if I don't pass this lifting test, I'll still be able to see Michael Nesmith before he Davy Joneses it.
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