July 27th, 2003

socks and cat

A potential job bites the dust

Well next week will be easier than I thought, since I just lost the job I was supposed to do the "working interview" for. Damn. What a great job that would have been. $16 an hour, and I would only have had to work 4 days per week. The days are staggered so that every other weekend would have been a 4 day weekend off. And still enough pay to live on.

I don't have words for how much I suck right now. But the dentist who's office I was supposed to "work interview" for next week was training me on billing today. So much to remember and figure out. It wasn't just cut and dried entering numbers. If they have this and this insurance company, just write off the difference. But if it's this and that insurance company, bill the patients for the difference. But check the books anyway, to make sure the insurance didn't short us a few bucks. Unless it's this, then check that. SO much to remember. NOT a job for a girl who is unable to pay attention to detail.

I would have been great at the rest of the job. The patients, the phones, the scheduling, etc. All good in the vat of Kitten skills. Numbers...bad. I have a learning disability combined with ADD that makes data entry and balancing with numbers a complete disaster for me. It's pretty much how I lost my dream job at Seattle Weekly earlier this year. Only over at the Weekly, entering the numbers and data wrong just mean that their personal ads didn't run or ran in the wrong category. But if I made those same mistakes with the Dentist, his practice would have been out every dollar that I entered incorrectly. My working there would have cost him quite a bit of money. I couldn't go through with it. I told him after 2 hours of training that I wasn't qualified for the job.

I left and was crying by the time I got to my car. Stupid parents' fault really. If my mom hadn't been smoking pot while she was pregnant or if her dead-beat, drug addict first husband hadn't dropped me on my head when I was a baby (which gave me a concussion and I stopped breathing) then maybe my brain would freakin' work like every one else's! Fuck!!!

I'm sure it's all part of some master plan. Not being able to hold a job like this is forcing me to develop my creative skills and pursue them professionally. But it still hurts to be this way. I feel like half a human. I can't do things normal people can do. Granted, normal people can't dance in a cage so well they get paid for it. Normal people can't choreograph a routine on their own and perform it in front of 400 people. But normal brained people can hold a job. Call me crazy, but I want it all. I want a normal, fully functional people type brain AND I want to be spectacularly creative.
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    crushed crushed