While I was living in my studio apartment in Albany, I decided that after I was done with school I would never live alone again. Before moving to Albany, I spent a semester at home where there is ALWAYS something to do. Always.
As soon as I moved to Albany I tried, desperately, to find work at bookstores, but I was forced to expand my horizons. Although the hours, work and pay were not enviable, I began to work at Price Chopper. This job provided the motivation I needed to send my resume and applications around a radius outside of Albany. My job at Price Chopper lasted less than one week. I think that any job that involves a paying customer is something, especially now, I have little interest in. “No, you’re going to have to bag that again. I said I wanted the plastic bag on the outside of the paper bag.” I enjoy being right and having a mantra of “the customer is always right” does not suit me. The experience was not a total loss. After giving notice I received a paycheck for several days of work. It also exchanged my annoyance and frustration, when there is a “cashier in training” and you have six different types of fruit in your grocery cart, with patience, understanding, and gratitude.
I found a position at the State Library, approximately two blocks from my apartment. It was interesting work. I worked at the computer sign up desk and found that it was the haven for people that make me appreciate my position as a prison librarian. Some days I would wonder about the people that used to flood in from open to close. Many of them did not understand that they did not own the computer station. Which made it difficult when there was a time limit and someone else waiting for them to leave. Somehow it ultimately became my fault. Was there a psych ward close to the library? If so, did they get to leave? “Just as long as you stay at the library until they close.” It was thoughts like this that amused me while working there. In all fairness, there were a handful of people that used the computers for reasons beyond social networking. They made things enjoyable and would have research questions for papers they were writing.
It was at the State Library that I decided that I would find out how much God hates me if I ever have boys. One boy wanted to use the computers and was under the age limit. I found him on a station and told him to stay away from the computers several times. This statement was not received well and he glared at me and a growl formed in his throat. Disgusted, I walked back to my desk. On the fourth time I told him to stop, I said I’d have to call security if he got on another station. I watched in horror as he finished chewing a lifesaver and spit it all over a printer. He then removed the paper from the printer and threw it at me. I could have yelled or called security. Instead, I smiled knowing he would get it eventually. As for me, I got it immediately. With paper towels and Windex in hand I cleaned the printer. Whilst cleaning up the green lifesaver, the fantasy I had of libraries quickly evaporated.
Going from a house with seven other people in it to a studio with only a plant to talk to, I quickly decided everyone would receive a scarf for Christmas. The task was completed to my Netflix DVD’s and shows like Desperate Housewives, Grey’s Anatomy, 30 Rock, and yes, Dancing With the Stars. This new schedule with so much free time was viewed as an opportunity to catch up with pop culture. This pastime was enjoyed on my recliner, which was four steps away from my bed and two steps from the refrigerator. Looking back, I should have rearranged my set-up. After about six months of this I joined a gym but found nicotine to be more effective and expensive. This habit also led to friendships I still have. I still think of fall mornings getting up with my coffee knocking on my neighbor’s door and making my way to the steps of my brownstone. I’d perch there and exchange gossip about the other tenants. My brain enjoyed a nice lull before facing a day of class, work and general stressors that a day holds.
In early April I found myself quite sick with something that began as a cold. Unwilling to part with the more tranquil parts of my day, the cold worsened. I found myself hacking and wheezing. After weeks of denial, and blaming the cat that had joined the plant and I, I decided it was time to go to the Doctors. This logical decision was surprising, especially with the minimal amount of oxygen making it to my brain. Part of my hesitation was the doctor herself. On every occasion I went for simple issues I found myself leaving the establishment telling myself it wasn’t worth it.
The first time I went to my school’s Medical Center I was told I was over-weight. Had my grandparents called them with a request of keeping my weight in check via pointing out pounds that shouldn’t be there? “We were worried about your weight for awhile.” I found myself either sucking in my gut or refusing a second helping or the plate of cookies that was passed around when I was in their presence. Happy and thin are not co-dependent. Having that extra cookie during Christmas and happiness were clearly connected. Perhaps the time had come to move my recliner further from the kitchen. Instead, it motivated me to stop to get gas and a carton before returning home.
The second visit I was told, with a smile and “congratulations” that should be reserved for occasions like getting married, getting a job, winning the lottery, or having a baby. I had lost twelve pounds in a matter of weeks. This small triumph was short lived because it was followed by “My, your blood pressure is through the roof.” This was all for a prescription for Mucinex and advice to buy over the counter cold medicine.
The incident that is most traumatizing is when I had a cold and one of my ears was plugged. Yet again, I made my way to the Medical Center. I left with my prescription and as I was leaving the Dr. chased after me and in the waiting room, which was filled with bored and annoyed people who would appreciate the coming amusement. “Oh I forgot to give you these eardrops. Your ear is waxy and I gave you an extra prescription to break it up. Only two drops in the morning and at night.” I heard a young boy snicker and a teenage girl breathe, “eww.” My face burned and I snatched the prescription and ran. As I ran the word “HIPAA” kept coming to mind. I was not enthralled with the idea of returning, but I wheezed my way there. I was given an emergency inhaling treatment, a Z-pack, and the courage to face the following days in Albany with coffee, gossip, and second hand smoke.
A friend of mine recently sent me a prayer for the souls in purgatory. Today, a day when we remember those who have died, it is fitting to recite this prayer.
"On Hitler's Mountain: Overcoming the Legacy of a Nazi Childhood," is a book that Claire suggested to me. For months it sat on my nightstand beneath a pile of books I was hoping to get through. I picked it up and finished it in two days. Her account is a viewpoint that is often ignored, yet, it is one that we can learn much from. Irmgard Hunt writes a memoir about what it was like growing up in Nazi Germany beneath the Führer's mountain retreat in Berchtesgaden. Her parents, living through World War I embraced Hitler as a strong leader. Because they were at the foot of Hitler's Eagles Nest, their town often saw officials of the Nazi party coming and going, including Hitler. Irmgard was spotted by Hitler one afternoon and he spotted her, a perfect Aryan girl with blond hair and blue eyes. He sat her on his knee for a picture. She was part of the Hitler Youth and it was not until the war was near an end when she was a teen that she began to question the policies put into play during the Third Reich. 
We went to the beaches and several museums. The most moving part of that trip is found below.
A fine way to spend an afternoon.
And this is the door where Becket's attackers burst through.
Tomorrow I am going to Luke's camp on Lake Champlain for a restful day by the water. YEA for long weekends!
The day ended on an especially nice note. Luke is home from school and we recently hit the seven year mark so we went to Saranac Lake and then to dinner. While driving to Saranac Lake, you will see some of the most beautiful scenery. It was a great way to end a stress filled day!
