During a time in our country, where one is lucky to even have a job, I find myself trapped inside mine. I work at a retirement community for actors and do medical collections there. It is a job that is so un-stimulating, that to call it boring would be an understatement. In case you do not know what a medical collector does, let me tell you.I speak to disgruntled patients that don’t want to pay their medical bills, I peruse patients medical records searching for additional diagnosis and in turn read about STD exposures, their stool quality, the detailed descriptions of their genitalia on the daily basis. I also call insurance companies that come up with every possible excuse not to pay patients medical claims.
During my two 15 minute breaks, I daydream of teapots, vases and different type of flowers I will adorn my jars with this spring. I also get 30 minutes for lunch, during which I try to stuff and digest some sort of a sandwich. Having said that, the job is located 7 minutes away from my home, and while I am not a morning person, and have to be in by 7AM, I am home by 3:37 PM. This allows me to run my errands, swim in my pool in the summer, and take my pottery classes at Glendale Community College.
So while I whine and complain about this awful day job, it allows me the time to do all the things I love, but at what cost I ask you? I have been keeping an eye out for something else for the last two years, but I am still here. Still in this half cubicle, still staring at the computer screen in a micro-managed environment. The reason for this is that our economy is in the shitter, and I have not found another comparable option that is as convenient as this. So here I sit, while my mind wonders through Robins Egg valleys and Poppy jar meadows.Even as I am writing this, I know I should be grateful, but I can’t help tearing at myself wanting to get out and do something creative. My husband who is one of those people who does not have a creative bone in his body. - I am not being mean, it’s a fact and he would tell you this himself, finds it difficult to understand that it is not something we, the creative people choose. It is in us, and if there is no outlet, we go crazy! I know I am not alone this. Back me up people!
