Clam Cannery in Port Townsend

The Clam Cannery Waterfront Hotel & Spa by turnherelocal">
My aunt and uncle came out last week from Michigan to check on me. They thought I needed to get away... so took me to Port Townsend. We stayed at the recently restored Clam Cannery Inn. It was lovely being right over the water in a fully stocked suite. It was also a test to see how long I could be upright and alert.... which a week ago was about 2 hours. Yesterday I was up for nine hours. Every day is an improvement, some things are repairing rapidly, like my typing speed and ability to stay awake and there are also slow repairs -- like the ability to touch my nose with my eyes closed (I am about an inch off with my wayward left hand). Yeah, I know, how often do you have to do that in a regular day?? But it reminds me that there are still some mysteries as to how my brain is damaged.
I was joking with my daughter Rose yesterday that I can blame SO MANY THINGS on the stroke where as before I had no excuse. Ditsy moment? Stroke. Potty mouth? Stroke. Drive too fast? Stroke. Floors not swept? Stroke. I get alot of humor mileage out of this which is good, because technically the whole thing does not fall in the realm of the comedic.
Also a quick note to friends. And my ma. I am a only child. That makes me somewhat (very) independent with an "I can do it myself" attitude. The first couple weeks I could not "do it myself" and people came out the woodwork to visit, offer help, make me laugh, feed the horses, take care of the chickens. My horseshoer came over and caught the horses and did their hooves. My neighbor got my mail and took the garbage out. The kids dad took off work which he does not do and continuously keeps things going. My mom kept the kitchen stocked, and everyone fed and driven where they needed to go. A friend brought food from her garden and wood for my firepit. Another took Wilder a couple days to be with her sons to take his mind off of me and let him be a kid again. But most of all everyone just continually checked in and gave me hugs, put me on prayer lists, and acted like it was all going to be okay and normal. And that was the best. Pics: I added a link to the Clam Cannery if you are interested, a photo of our room, & Ischemic Attack (stroke) victim (me) yesterday in Edmonds. Lookin' at me, you wouldn't know I had a stroke, other than when I get tired my left side gets a little droopy.

My Big Box Temp Job

I wrote this post a while back about my temp job. I am not sure I am going back to it, at this point I have gotten picky what I spend my time doing. Plus, I am still waiting for my stamina to come back!
The beginning of July when we were on the ferry going to Seattle I got a call from an unknown phone number. I answered it -- turns out it was a pre-screening call for an interview at a big-box store that I shop at All The Time. A couple months ago they had a sign in the window they were hiring, and temporary work at this time is very appealing, so I went online and applied.
I answered their textbook questions : " Tell me about your cash handling experience" "Tell me about a time you gave excellent customer service" and got a call to come in for an interview with the store operations manager. When I passed muster I was set up to meet the store manager to sign off on hiring me. Then there was a background and DRUG test. If you have never had a drug test... it is a strange thing. You cannot wash your hands. You cannot flush the toilet. You cannot bring anything in the room with you like a purse. When you do get to wash your hands, you are watched.
All for a temp job, at a third of my previous payrate. After almost 15 hours of online training, including warnings verbally and in video about unions (this store chain does not have a union) I was on the salesfloor this past weekend. Result?
1. I love working.
2. I am not a very good turn-off-the-brain follow policies to the end of the earth type person.
3. It is an eye-opener kind of job. Positions like this are how people can be working more than fulltime and still need assistance like food stamps... this is not a liveable wage. If they are a family this income would meet the poverty threshold. Plus, how could they hire quality childcare if the going rate is 2/3 their monthly income?
I tried not to sound snarky when a gal my age came up next to me and asked if I had worked anywhere before this. I don't tell my coworkers what I do, I just say I have lots-o-cashiering experience. Working in a store with 150 other employees, there are funky little power and favoritism issues that I already notice one week in. BUT I love working in this store... I will get to learn about all sorts of things I am clueless about, and we all know how much I love learning new stuff!