OrientedDis.. Disoriented. |
Friday, June 06, 2003 Because my other Journal Won't Let me Post Anything Well. I'm not sure where some of my posts have gone to. They show up on the website, but not in the posting area, and others I meant to write on, but didn't post, don't show up at all either. Maybe they'll be accidentally published without any info. once I publish this. I don't know really. But it's slightly perturbing. Anyway. I need to get back to work. The "second half" of my day. The half where my life is seriously at risk. The half that makes me grossed out. The biohazardous half. The first half of my day : delivering packages and letters across town The second half: collecting "specimens" and finally delivering them to the main lab .. and still delivering some packages and letters. The specimens gradually amass with every single stop, each stop increasing my 'risk' every time. It's a little sad to consider how many people in this city have HIV. I try not to look at the names of the specimens, but sometimes I can't help but glance as I'm packaging them to be transported, and.. heh.. sometimes I think I see familiar names. It's really sad, actually. It's somewhat 'sick' - it's just definitely a direct idea of why it's so important to be extremely safe if having sex or using other's needles. Or the technique I would personally encourage - abstinence... it's too risky not to. People don't even understand the risk I think. So many people have this, secretly, and you'd never know.. they don't even know half the time. I'm paranoid too. Every time I pick up "specimens" .. I imagine some of the sample has leaked out onto the bag or something when the other people were packaging it. And maybe one single molecule is going to slightly slip through my skin or something. Or maybe scientists don't know yet that simply breathing the miniscule molecules can have an effect on increasing your chances with something 'hazardous'/seriously-life-health-threatening. Heh. I just don't like the idea that I'm working around these biohazardous things. Or the fact that I have to transport them all in a car. Especially when I'm a "good driver," but sure, people come close to smashing into me every once in a while. Hmm. Off I go. . . . babbled Lin |