I am immune, or at least very resistant to, every medication I have ever been given. When I was having my wisdom teeth removed, the oral surgeon gave me "twilight" anesthetic, which is a mixture of valium and demerol. He stuck the needle in my arm, started the drip and told me to count backward from 100. I made it all the way to 63 before I fell asleep, and when the drip stopped, I woke back up. By the time he was done removing the teeth, I had completely shrugged off the meds. He told me that I should have gone under before I reached 97.
My usual shift at work is 13 hours, 5 days a week. I hate my job. I don't get paid hourly, and I'm not a salaried employee. Such is the joys of being an auto mechanic. I get paid by the job, unless it's just a free inspection. I looked at 23 cars today at work, 15 of them needed brake repairs, two needed engine work, and the other 6 needed a combination of tire replacement and suspension repairs. I get paid $19 a flat hour, and today, after spending 13 hours in a shop that averages 100 degrees Fahrenheit in the summer time, I made a grand total of $5. I spent more than that on gas driving to work.
For those of you who don't know what I mean by "flat hour", the way that most mechanics get paid is on what's called flat rate. For example, the average brake job at my shop is replacement of the brake pads and resurfacing the brake rotors. That pays 1.5 hours, regardless of how long it actually takes. If I get the job done in 30 minutes, I get paid 1.5 hours. If the job takes me 7 hours because I have to wait on the parts to arrive, I get paid 1.5 hours. Sometimes it's a great way to make a living, other times, like today for instance, it makes me want to stand on the Moon, face the world and say "Fuck you".