Peeing in a cup, and other indignities

I was standing at the kitchen sink, watching the water stream over the dishes, trying to live in the moment. Suddenly I heard my voice say, "I'm going to be working in a mall during Christmas season." From behind me, D's voice rose over the sound of frying sausage. "The reality just hit you, huh?"

Can you really use the word "reality" to describe one of the most surreal rituals of the year? For years I have avoided the malls, the stores, the frenzy. I make my gifts, I wrap presents sans tape because one year I ran out of tape and refused to go to the store for more. Now I take an extra 10 minutes per package, folding paper carefully and securing the ends with carefully wound ribbons. I love the season for the lights, the decorations, the smell of ginger and cinnamon and baked butter and sugar. But the frenzy of the mall is unbearable to me. At the best of times, I find myself overstimulated and enervated after 15 minutes in a mall. And now, for $9.36/hr and a 40% employee discount, I am deliberately planning to spend my weekends in a mall. During the Christmas season.

Not only that, I am, for the 2nd time in two months, going to be peeing in a cup. I went in yesterday after my interview, but I couldn't find my ODL. I couldn't find it today either, but I was sure that my City employee ID would work for me. Nope, has to be a state issued ID, or a passport. I don't get why some governments are better than others. Nor do I get why the store can't use the City's paperwork. How many cups must I pee in before I am finally employed as a regular non-temp employee? Do they really think I could become a drug addict and felon in less than a month?

It's a humiliating process. You sign in, they check your ID. You sit with your papers until they call your name. You can't drink more than 12 oz of water ahead of time, or your pee will be diluted. You go into a dingy lab area, and you lock your purse into small box. You wash your hands with water only. You remove all possible clothing that could be hiding a sample. A young man in a white coat hands you the cup. You go into a room, and they magnanimously let you shut the door while you pee. But, you can't flush the toilet, and you can't wash your hands until they bag and tag your sample and you sign the label.

I'll be doing that tomorrow, because I finally found my ID (it was in my purse, having snuck into the folds of some papers.) Then, in 2 weeks, if PPS calls me back, I'll probably get to do it again, as well as pay for fingerprinting. Again, for a temporary on call job.

Yet, somehow I am happy. Despite the various indignities, I find myself absorbed by the process of finding work and learning new ways of existing. I like having an irregular schedule. I feel like I am in control of this bizarre adventure called unemployment.

But I still don't want to pee in a cup.