Click images for desktop size: "Upland" by Studio BenBen I survived one of the physically roughest days in my older life.
And it was a sort of fun.

Proctoring the test was enjoyable. I was surprised that the classrooms were so small. I thought that was a good thing. When I was in school it was usually at least 40 to a class. Here it was about 20.
Another surprise was that these tests are the ones the state uses in allocating funds, firing people, giving raises. So why didn't they fund the program to the point of at least not having to beg for volunteers? Even jury duty style money or bus fare would have enticed a lot more people to show up.
I liked the kids. The huge clothes they wear nowadays made sense in the classroom. As soon as they handed in their answer sheets they'd pull the shirts over their heads and pull their arms out of the sleeves and take a nap in a wearable cocoon. I thought it was clever.
Especially considering the kids who finished first still had to sit in the classroom for 3 hours, waiting for everyone else to finish.
They all handled that pretty well.
They tried some things on me but they wouldn't be kids if they didn't. Nothing outrageous, in fact it was all very well modulated and the kids were very well behaved.
I'm the kind of guy who finds it amusing to watch kids try and get away with stuff I tried when I was a kid: the old dropped pencil ploy, the sneezing a note across a room. They seldom worked for me either.
One kid finished the test in 10 minutes. I was curious as to whether he was that smart or that apathetic. There was no one I could safely ask.

The doctor was a pain. There has been a study on the diabetics medicine they've been feeding me for the last 7 years. This study holds that the medicine increases the likelihood of heart attacks by 45%. I got diabetes as a side effect to one of the chemo's. This chemo they knew increased the likelihood of heart attacks by 50%. Add in all the other factors and I think I just shot into the favored position, as in it will be amazing if I don't have a heart attack! Glaxo, the drug company is defending themselves by saying their tests only indicate a 30% increase in heart attacks . . . and they claim they made it public knowledge last year . . . they've been selling it for 15 years . . .
Going in my favor is the fact that I'm reasonably calm, don't have high blood pressure and work out a reasonable amount.
Its nothing to stress over. Its just something that can't be ignored.

Then there were the volleyball camps. I like volleyball as a sport. I'm not too keen on beach volleyball. It lacks the intricate passing and the opponent confusing fakes and feigns. I do like that beach volley ball protects the athletes body when going for the dig. (The dig is where the athlete lays out in an attempt to stop the opponent from scoring. The theory is that you give up your body so that you can get enough of your hand on the ball to get the ball up for a teammate to scoop the ball up and try and set up your own score.)
This was a pretty rough group of kids, but they were all polite, interested and motivated.
I don't know much about coaching volleyball, But I'm good with SAQ (Speed, Agility, Quickness). There are no sports that don't benefit from Speed, agility or quickness.
The coach thought I worked the kids too hard, at first. Then he saw that they were even more enthusiastic! They asked me, the way rough kids do, if I'd be back next week. I said yeah.

The hospital with Dr Puppy always goes well. She does her job so well. She played tea time with the girls. They got mad and lectured her about being impolite and eating her cookie before everyone else had been served!

Work is the same: more annoyed each time I meet a coworker. Dismayed and appalled that I should be grouped in with people with no hygiene and no manners who tell pornographic unfunny jokes to strangers. Yeah.

My friend has asked me why the universe is unraveling. Like I can point to a specific thread and say it starts there.
It's not like that. Its like the fabric of my little micro-verse has been doused with caustic acid and the whole sheaf has become something unrecognizable. She has a right to ask.
I'll try and make time to answer. I see ways to answer but not complete explanations yet.

I also realized how ingrained Southern California is in me. I heard me described as the tall guy with the Southern California accent . . . maybe that's why I like Chandler so much. The Irish have Joyce, the South has Faulkner and the lonely surfers have Chandler.

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