My name is Adrianna. I have this habit of speaking before I think, which always gets me into trouble. When I look in the mirror, I see a late 20's woman with shoulder length dark brown hair, turqoise eyes, full lips, and an figure that has a few extra pounds around the hips and tummy.
I'm starting a new job tomorrow. Today, Tomorrow. What does it matter. Once you make a mistake this huge, it just doesn't go away.
It all started out when I decided to resign from my great but stressful day job. I cared for others as a nursing assitant in my local hospital.
I loved taking care of the important stuff. Making sure my people got their medications on time if they were just pills. Helping them clean up at least once a week.
Helping the ladies style their hair was the most fun.
It wasn't the most appreciated job in the scheme of things. But, boy, did my people light up when I walked in. They knew they were going to get treated like kings and queens for whatever amount of time I could give them
Unfortunately, the stress of working my hind end off coupled with the stress of low pay and high costs of living started wearing me down. When I realized I wasn't able to give my people my best, I started looking for other ways to use my skills that would ease my stress levels.
After much searching and networking, I found some private care situations. I'd be caring for one person in their own home. The pay was a touch higher than my old job.
And I could choose my cases. I could decline those jobs that had requirements that I just plain didn't want to meet. I could have up two three active people at a time, depending on each person's specific time needs.
Sounds like the perfect set up, right?
Most of the jobs were basic housekeeping and reminding the person to take their medications. Easy peasy!
So I selected two jobs. Between them I would be working 32 hours a week, and have three days off. Not bad. I could also swing my bills and have a little money left over to save. Score!
Two days after selecting the assignments I wanted, I went to meet the people I would be caring for and their families.
I dressed carefully that moring, knowing just how important that first impression is. I chose my smartest black pencil skirt, a white blouse with the frilly neckline that was once called a poet's blouse, smart nude color nylons and black 2 inch heels. I complimented the outfit with some understated pearl earrings, a double strand of pearls around my neck, and a small gold watch. My purse was a black leather clutch.
The first meeting went well. An elderly woman, very spry and quite funny who needed help with the cooking and cleaning around the house. She could take care of herself otherwise. I didn't even need to help her bathe or handle her medications.
Her family seemed very laid back but concerned and cautious about thier mother's health. I was quizzed about my training, skills and past work. Then I was asked about what licenses and certifications I had. A few other standard questions, and we agreed on a 14 day trial period. We'd meet again the first day of my third week and see if we all wanted to continue our arragnement.
All was going according to plan. I left the first home and stopped at a fast food restaurant a few miles away. I had about 30 minutes before my second appointment. I typed in the address I needed to get to into my GPS. It was only about 10 minutes from where I am sitting.
I got out and headed towards the restuarant thinking I am going to freshen up a bit after using the facilities. As I walked towards the building, this flashy red sports car roared into the parking lot on the opposite side from where I was parked. I noticed it was a shiny new Mustang convertable and kept on walking.
Just as I got to the door, the Mustang pulled into a parking spot right behind me. At-High-Speed! It had been raining just a half hour before, and there were puddles everywhere. The Mustang hit two puddles perfectly and splashed twin streams of muddy, stinking water onto me. All over my very white top!
As I cursed this idiot's lack of abilities in every area I could think of, this tall dark man stepped out of the car. He curtly told me I should watch where I am walking so I don't get splashed by on coming cars. I am sure you can understand why I took great pleasure in setting him straight about the fact that he was driving way too fast for a parking lot. If he had been driving at a reasonable pace, I would have never gotten splashed at all.
I then asked him if he is going to pay for my cleaning bill to get all the stench out of my clothes as well as for my lost wages if I was unable to get the position I was on my way to interview for. He got so red in the face, I would have sworn he was having a stroke or something! He went into a tirade about gold-digging women and stormed into the restaurant.
I ran back to my car to pick up the extra set of clothes I always keep with me, then got to the restroom as quickly as I could. One look at my favorite blouse and I wanted to cry. It was probably ruined, but I'd call my favorite dry cleaner to see if they could do something to save it. I quickly changed into my fresh outfit of black trousers, a white cami, and a black blazer. Since my jewlry still worked, I took about 30 seconds to finger comb my hair.
I rushed out of the restaurant just knowing I would be late. I noticed the Mustang was gone, and was somehow releaved. I started my car, and had about 5 minutes to get to my destination. So I roared out of the parking lot and raced to the next families home.
I arrived with barely a minute to spare, and pulled into the drive way. As I walked to the door, I ran through some postive thoughts trying to get my composure back. I knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer.
In short order, the door was answered by a tall dark man...who I last saw driving a Mustang.
