The princess and the pee

Is there anything more demeaning than having to take give a urine sample?

I think it has something to do with how gross/embarrassing it is to have to stand there holding a cup of your own pee. Ugh.

On that note, I had to do a drug screen for the new gig. Despite this being my third grown-up job (well, aside from being a freelancer…because Lord knows magazines aren’t wasting their time worrying if you’re getting high in your own living room), this is the first time I’ve ever had to do a drug test.

It’s sort of awkward all around, I guess. The employees (all doctor-type people in white lab coats) sort of have to treat you a little bit like a criminal because, hey, the whole reason we’re doing this is because you very well might be a criminal.

My technician (or “collector,” as my less-than-delicate screening form referred to her) was actually pretty nice to me. Maybe my jeggings and summer scarf gave me away as a goody-two-shoes. Or I guess most drug-hardened convincts don’t have Bambi faces.

Whatever the reason, we chatted a bit while she filled out the preliminary paperwork. But she was all business when it came to “collecting the sample.”

she handed me my little plastic cup, told me to “fill the cup, don’t flush, and don’t wash your hands.”

I’m pretty sure I gave her a horrified expression. I didn’t mean to, but don’t wash my hands? B-but…it’s pee! And it’s practically in my hand! I got it together, though, and followed her instructions. (Ugh, ok, maybe it’s the process of being forced to try to “catch” your urine in a tiny plastic cup that’s demeaning.)

Afterward, I handed her the cup, she poured a bit into this little plastic beaker, then she told me to pour the rest in the toilet, flush, and wash my hands.

What the heck? What was with the whole rigmarole of not washing up? It’s not like she swabbed my hands to see if they had traces of meth or something. Maybe they’re worried you’ll add water to your pee? Would that hide the drugs? Couldn’t I have just scooped some out of the toilet tank? Why am I thinking about ways to beat a drug test??

So anyway. I was weirdly shaken up after this, even though there is zero chance of the test coming out positive.

I blame having to hold a warm cup of pee. It’s enough to throw anyone off.

Whoops, things just got existential.

It’s Friday, Friday, Friday ohh…

(Just combined Rebecca Black and Justin Beiber? Eh, they all blend in my head anyway. I’m singing it to the Bieb’s tune, if that helps you.)

Well, after that weird specific diagnosis of my made up song, let’s get to it!

This is my second to last Friday working in the city. I don’t really have anything new to say about that, but it seems significant enough (in the oh-so-broad spectrum that is “things on my mind”) to mention.

Last night I had dinner with my extremely lovely friend Samantha, whom I haven’t seen in over two years. She’s been having her own version of my “what the heck do I do with my life now” freakouts in the last year or so, so I think we both took a little comfort in realizing that shifting priorities and changing realizations about what we want are not problems exclusive to ourselves.

It is nice to know I’m not the only person to spend most of their life knowing exactly what o want to do, only to finally get it and then realize I don’t want everything that comes with it. Or to know I’m not the only one with that giant “now what” question hanging over my head.

I guess I relate to those kids who took four years to choose a major, only to change it a week before graduation a lot more now.

Ugh, this is starting to run a little scattered and getting way too heavy for a Friday post (it started with tween pop stars, remember?), so suffice to say I’m not freaking out anymore. Just learning.

And that’s not such a bad thing, right?