I am on a job hunt. And I find at 52, it's not the same as 22. On a recent application, one of the questions was, "Can you lift 50 lbs with ease or difficulty?" Well, guess what, I'm honest and said with difficulty, and they called anyway. Seems they want an older person on second shift to see that the younger ones get everything done. I asked them if that meant I would be supervising that shift, and they said, "No!" Then I asked if I was responsible for ensuring all the work was completed, and they said no. So, I'm thinking, what do they want me to do? Tap everyone on the head with ruler when they misbehave?
I have this thing which the doctor tells me is called degenerative spinal disease, and have bone spurs on my spine. He showed me the x-ray, and I seem 'em for myself. I said what are those little hooks for? He said those are the spurs. He said that's why I have so much pain in my back and legs, because the spurs are pinching nerves. Not all the time, just when I stand up a lot, or walk around a lot. I'm supposed to complete my physical therapy, (came down with the flu) but haven't gotten around to it yet. The doctor wanted to give me darvocet, and I said that stuff is worthless, and they give it to old people and doesn't do any good. Then he said how about propoxyphene, and I said that's the same thing, doc. Tried to slip one by me. I wouldn't know that probably but I was my dad's caregiver during the last years of his life, and that's what they prescribed for him. Sometimes he gave them to his dog JoJo. I don't know why, but the at least the dog was quiet for a while.
So, here I am, my body falling apart on me, entering the workforce after a couple of years off. I think a job would do me good, actually. Get me out and about, meeting new people, and all that good shit. We'll see, I guess.
Wish me luck. Maybe Vincent D'onfrio needs a personal assistant. Hell, I'll get him coffee, I'll get him any damn thing he wants.