So despite my innermost secret thoughts on blood donation that were posted earlier (The Window Seat), I decided to give a pint of my red honey for the greater good of society. In particular, the part of society that exists in my wallet. It turned out that the next time the Indiana Blood Center visited our office that they were giving away concert tickets to everyone that bled.
I had no interest in the concert--I can't even recall what band it was for--but thanks to the magic of email, a black market for the tickets developed rather robustly. So I ended up making a cool $15 dollars, plus some raunchy comedy albums, which they were also handing out.
Ah, but were that the end of the story. When I give blood I always get a bit light-headed and hot at the very end of the donation. As these feelings of unwellness once again began to wash over my vein-tapped body, I just laid my head back and tried to relax.
The next thing I knew I was awakened by a voice calling my name rather urgently, and three people in white coats that I'd never seen before standing at the end of my bed! Actually, I had seen them just a few minutes before, but due to having lost consciousness for about thirty seconds I was unable to place them, or recognize where I was, for about ten ticks.
Due to my short stint in La La Land, I was required to sit and eat cookies and drink sugary beverages for a bit longer than one is accustomed to. This was quite a drag as I was really hoping to get back to the office to continue dealing with angry, disappointed, disillusioned customers. But alas, my blood pressure continued to improve with every chocolate chip and bubble of carbonation, so I shuffled off to earn my living like every good computer nerd should--by supporting technically.
So now that I've had two weeks of vacation to clear the mind, and the rush of $15 of unfettered spending money has waned, it has dawned on me that I actually passed out the one time I actually made money by answering the call to fill the bag. And that I gave up thirty seconds of my consciousness for a mere $15. Come to think of it, though, $15 for thirty seconds yields a result of $1800 per hour. So I feel pretty good about it now that I know how valuable my time is--I'll be asking the boss for a raise.
I had no interest in the concert--I can't even recall what band it was for--but thanks to the magic of email, a black market for the tickets developed rather robustly. So I ended up making a cool $15 dollars, plus some raunchy comedy albums, which they were also handing out.
Ah, but were that the end of the story. When I give blood I always get a bit light-headed and hot at the very end of the donation. As these feelings of unwellness once again began to wash over my vein-tapped body, I just laid my head back and tried to relax.
The next thing I knew I was awakened by a voice calling my name rather urgently, and three people in white coats that I'd never seen before standing at the end of my bed! Actually, I had seen them just a few minutes before, but due to having lost consciousness for about thirty seconds I was unable to place them, or recognize where I was, for about ten ticks.
Due to my short stint in La La Land, I was required to sit and eat cookies and drink sugary beverages for a bit longer than one is accustomed to. This was quite a drag as I was really hoping to get back to the office to continue dealing with angry, disappointed, disillusioned customers. But alas, my blood pressure continued to improve with every chocolate chip and bubble of carbonation, so I shuffled off to earn my living like every good computer nerd should--by supporting technically.
So now that I've had two weeks of vacation to clear the mind, and the rush of $15 of unfettered spending money has waned, it has dawned on me that I actually passed out the one time I actually made money by answering the call to fill the bag. And that I gave up thirty seconds of my consciousness for a mere $15. Come to think of it, though, $15 for thirty seconds yields a result of $1800 per hour. So I feel pretty good about it now that I know how valuable my time is--I'll be asking the boss for a raise.
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