Klowns in my Koffee

An email with the title "Exam Result" materialized in my Junk mailbox amid the opportunities to cash in on medical transcriptionist training and Russian women who want to meet me. I paused to enjoy that "on the precipice" feeling that Schrödinger's cat knew so well. It was false suspense since I'd been clued in that a letter is received if you fail but an email link appears if you pass. Of course, they could have changed protocols to send "Dear Pathetic Loser" emails as part of some instant-grat-for-masochists program.

And so ... good news. I was sweating this one. (As a woman of a certain age, the phrase takes on a rueful reality. Power surges, my butt.)

I'll enjoy updating my resume and various postings. I'd be lying if I said that there wasn't some schadenfreude in play. I was in Goodwill on Wednesday and the cashier asked me if I wanted the Senior Discount. Wednesdays are senior 25% discount days at Goodwill but I somehow envisioned more of a chasm between me in my jeans, college sweatshirt and Tevas bounding up and down the aisles and a group using walkers migrating slowly toward the Eddy Arnold vinyls. (If you are drawing a blank on either 'Eddy Arnold' or 'vinyl,' I guess there's not as great a difference as I had hoped.) The cashier said, "Have a nice day" and I thought that I had been up until a few moments before.

So one part of passing that test means that I must have done better than about half the people in the room, most of whom were younger, and who, from the looks of their reference materials, had shelled out at least 500 bucks to attend a training course.

I think next time I'll take the 25% discount.





Happy Birthday, Terry!