The Death Knell of my Nonprofit Career

It’s not often that I am completely caught off guard, but this definitely took me by surprise.  It was a normal Thursday, a little chilly compared to the rest of the week, but still good bubble weather.  I stopped at Target on my way in (as I do about once a week) since my friend Bella was in dire need of caffeine, and since I needed snacks for my drawer it was no hardship.  I got my desk in order and promptly dove into the large stack of financial aid applications.  In retrospect there were a few things that should have tipped me off that something was not right.

I suppose I need to provide a little bit of background information.  I worked for a non-profit organization that works in conjunction with other organizations to strengthen and build communities.  Every employee and volunteer needs to pass a criminal background check since our organization works with children and potentially sensitive information.  My last few weeks have been occupied by processing mounds of financial aid application, and hundreds of product request forms.  I had been sending out emails by the hundreds, asking for additional information in order to process the applications, and I began getting responses in the beginning of June.

 

Into the Den of Jackels

This post has been a long time coming, but it is still in fresh in my mind as though it were only yesterday.  Knowing myself intimately the way I do, I decided that I should schedule myself a bunch of appointments to help keep myself occupied while I waited impatiently for the interview to come to pass.  The first stop of the day was to get some testing for an allergy study.  They did a blood test and a quick review of my nose and mouth to see if there was anything that was prevent me from qualifying for the study.  I'm hoping I hear back from them since this would potentially add a few extra Benjamins to my wallet at a time when I find myself in need of some extra money.

I arrived at the building where the interview would take place a little earlier than I had hope.  It was closer to 30 minutes before the interview instead of the 15 minutes I had planned on.  This gave me ample time to rifle through the paperwork I brought with me, obtain a paper-cut, put a hole in my nylons, pick at the hangnail next to my new paper-cut, and make a mess out of my hair under the pretense of fixing it.  After seeing the damage I did to my hair in the rear view mirror of my car, I decided it was probably better if I just went in the building to pace about at my leisure.

Distressing anniversaries

Last week was particularly hard on me in ways that I hadn't anticipated. My psychiatrist canceled my appointment a few hours before I was supposed to go and see her. I was counting on being able to discuss my feelings and this desperate need to occupy myself with a rational third party. I had been hoping that she might have some special tip to combat the anxiety that was threatening to strangle me on a near daily basis. Maybe it's time I put some serious time into finding either a meditation or yoga class that could work with my schedule.

For the last two weeks Alberto had been sending me a message through Facebook. It wasn't elaborate, just a simple good morning, but it was really nice to know that he was thinking of me while he was 2000 miles away. One day the messages stopped without warning or any apparent reason. For two whole days I heard nothing, my phone calls to Alberto's cell phone didn't ring half the time and my calls to the Madrina weren't going through either. By the time I got through to the Comadre I had envisioned a catastrophe and Alberto in the hospital with no way to communicate with me. The Comadre said that Alberto was still in Mexico City and working in the store, so I asked her to tell the Compadre to have Alberto contact me.

Feats of Cognitive Ability

Sometimes I wish I could shut done my brain for a while and just drift. I annoy myself with my inability to wait and see. I had intended to wait the 45 day period that we agreed on before I started emailing everyone again, only to discover I couldn't even wait two weeks. After a record-breaking 10 days of practicing impatience, I emailed Lance pleading for something to do.


To: Lance

I was wondering if there was an Action Plan in place for whatever it is that may (or may not) happen next in regards to our case. It's not easy for me to take a step back when I have been purposefully making a pest of myself, but I believe if I knew the possible outcomes as you perceive them it would be easier for me to let go for a little while.

I need something occupy myself while I am stuck waiting (im)patiently once again, so if you have a list of documents that I should retrieve or some other feats of amazing cognitive ability that need to be performed, please let me know.

I will be seeing my psychiatrist again week after next, so hopefully she can help me locate my mind if I have lost it by then. :)

Deza

Pity Party at Table 1

Ever look at one of those posters with all the cartoon facial expressions and just want to set it on fire because there is no little cartoon expression for how you're feeling today?  No?  Must just be me then.

Is there a Doctor in the House?!

My worst nightmare came to pass; we had to bring Ashley to a doctor yesterday after passing what was probably the longest day of my life waiting for Alberto to come home.  Sunday night the diarrhea started, Monday morning I bought her Gatorade and started the BRAT diet, however by Tuesday afternoon she was burning with fever and refusing to eat because she felt like she was going to throw up.  Ashley, who is normally a ball of energy, was listless and spent most of the afternoon sleeping.  The Madrina came home first and stopped in to see me as was her habit and said we needed to bring her to the doctor as soon as Alberto got home.  We jumped on him the minute he walked through the door.

Ashley moaned and cried pitifully during the entire ride to the pharmacy that partnered with a doctor much like the Minute Clinics back in Minnesota.  We paid the 25 peso consultation fee and sat down in the uncomfortable plastic chairs to wait for the Doctor.  I could feel the heat radiating off her legs and Alberto recoiled in shock when I set his hand on her knee so he could feel it too.  Just then the Doctor came to the lobby to bring us back to the exam room.  As we sat talking to him about the symptoms and what she ate the last few days, Ashley continued to cry softly while poor Alberto broke into a sweat with each little noise she made.  The doctor focused on what she might have eaten asking very direct questions on whether she mostly ate chicken, pork, or beef and if we’d been anywhere outside of Mexico City.  I ran down a list of food I’d seen her eat, what she’d drank, and where we’d been including the meal we’d had at McDonald’s the other day much to my husband’s irritation.

Escape to Paradise

I’ve filed my 2012 tax return so hopefully my refund will find its way to the bank soon although the IRS apparently doesn’t start looking at returns until Wednesday.  I can’t wait to buy my tickets, it’s been so long since I’ve seen my husband it’s almost more than I can bear.  I found something cool this weekend at Target that we can use for Ashley to sleep on in Mexico since we won’t have a bed for her.  It’s called an EZ bed, and it’s basically an air mattress with a fitted sheet that has a comforter attached to it.  It has horrible reviews, but as long as the thing holds air for 2 weeks it’ll have been well worth the $15 bucks I spent.  It’s really kind of cute.

Decision 2012

So much for getting some sleep...  Here's a better rundown of the events of the day:

At 3pm today I received an email from the constituent services representative of Senator Franken’s office, Diana that the USCIS had notified them that a notice was mailed today.  USCIS did not let Diana know what the notice said.  I managed to get myself excited at the potential meaning of the notice.   I forwarded the email to Graciela and she responded that she was on pins and needles waiting to see what it would say.  I was floating on cloud nine thinking about all the good things that notice could say.

At 4:30pm I received the email regarding the new case status and saw that a decision had been made on the I-485 (Application to Register Permanent Residence or Adjust Status).  I’ll let you read for yourselves…

Slowly losing my mind

I hate this.  I hate how it feels to wait for something so long and then when it’s finally about to happen I manage to freak myself out.  I hate that I can’t sit still and can barely focus.  Tonight I will hate it even more when I can’t sleep.  Luckily I’ve only emailed the attorney once today, about 10 minutes ago, and I’m trying very hard not to email him again.  He’ll understand, won’t he?  I mean Lance was there when I flipped the f*** out the day the Consulate in Cuidad Juarez called 3 times and I was unable to call them back… (see below)