Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Of sorts. November 8 is significant for at least two reasons that stick in my memory. In 2004, today was my first day at the seed lab. It was a six hour crash course in all things alien to moi. Ag industrial was a whole new ball of wax to me and it seems odd now how much of it became familiar. Tests with names like Accelerated Aging and Advanticious Presence. Embryo up or down, depending on the herbicide present in the planting medium. I developed a filing system for corn and soybean storage in the warehouse. I managed over 500,000 samples over a period of five years. Not a single sample was lost on my watch. I miss the challenging nature of the work. I miss the people most. I've been away from the fray for over a year, now, and officially dismissed since the end of July. The pain and dysfunction of my hands attributed to this job continues with no real answers in sight. While we're on the subject of pain and injury, two years ago on this date the attentive staff at the local ER taped my forehead back together after my attempt at maintenance on my garage door. All that remains is a half inch mostly vertical scar on the left side of my forehead. Fortunately, due to a cowlick my bangs tend to swish over to the left and cover it. And a diminishing case of PTSD that makes me wince when I recall the incident or hear a loud, sharp noise. I celebrated with cookies for breakfast. You have some, too.