Yes indeed, I’m going to stop being a gypsy woman and toss aside the whole belief in jinxes (though realize that belief will come back a thousand fold if something goes horribly wrong at this point). No more mysteriousness in the Twitter realm.

As of Monday, I shall be working in the warehouse of Cameron Oilfield in Leduc.

So there you go. Talk about an anticlimax. I mean, I’m sure it would have been far cooler if I had announced that I am, in fact :

Well, I’m not. Of course, I wouldn’t tell you if I was…

So there you go. Like I said, I start Monday. I’ve been waiting for a whole metric fuck ton (different from an Imperial fuck ton, doncha’ know!) of background checks to clear. Then today I had to drive in to the city for a drug/fitness/hearing/sight test sort of thing. Nothing quite like the bloated stomach one gets from slamming down 2 and a half litres of water in an hour in order to be able to perform when some guy in a lab coat tells you to piss in a cup! Nothing quite like being told to do as many crunches in half a minute as part of a fitness test with a stomach filled with what feels like the Atlantic Ocean! Turns out that not only is my sight still awesome, but my hearing is pretty damn sweet as well. Woot!

With all that out of the way, I am now somewhat confident enough to actually talk about this without fear it will blow up in my face. Okay, without a ton of fear that it will blow up in my face.  Yes, even though I know that I have nothing to worry about in my past (with the exception of that little incident in Hong Kong. Oh, but nobody saw that…nobody who’s still alive, anyway…), I’m still filled with ridiculous fear that talking about this job will send it all up in flames. Welcome to my ridiculous life.

And no, I have no idea why so many background records checks were required for this gig. It’s a standard shipping/receiving/warehousing job for a company that makes valves. We aren’t exactly talking about a missile factory here…or maybe that’s what they want people to think…hmmmm…

Most warehouse gigs fit one of two descriptions :

-Everything is already set up and organized and in place when you walk in the door.

-Everything is a mess and you get to set things up the way you want to.

This actually has both. The Parts department will be getting it’s own building soon, and that means the other Shipper, the head of the department and I get to set that bad boy up however the Hell we want. That’s pretty much the sweetness.

Anyways, I’m running on about 3 hours of sleep and rambling like an even bigger jackass than usual (I know, it IS hard to believe that such a thing is possible!), so I’m gonna stop this here.

I came, I saw, a watched a guy in a lab coat dip test sticks in my urine while I sat there without a clue of what topic would break the uncomfortable silence at that moment.

Oh! And stay tuned for a new game play story kinda thing. I dared Brad to buy me a particular game, with the promise that I would do one for it if he did. He did. It’s…something different. It’s also got a lot more shit going on than I had anticipated. So that’s happening at some point relatively soon and stuff.