So today was the day I was to meet with vocational rehabilitation and job services to try and procure employment for myself. As per my extremely unusual sleeping habits, I knew I needed to prepare. An 8 AM appointment is a nightmare for me. Its like playing the slot machines. Will I win this time? Will I wake to my alarm? So, the night before I set up an alarm for 8 AM and after going to bed early managed to wake up and almost drag myself out of bed. It was another hour before I was actually up and about. I tried to keep busy all day, getting up and just walking around... and then around 9 PM I planned to wind down, take a bath and read or watch a little TV before trying to sleep around 10. I am such a dreamer...
I wound up going to bed more around... oh... midnight? Or later, perhaps. I only actually was in bed around midnight but it was a long road to sleep. I eventually fell asleep and seconds later I was awake again. Asleep, awake, asleep, awake. Asleep, alarm. All too soon I had to be awake, and my consciousness kept attempting to drag me back under. I did the only thing I could think of. I rolled off the couch. I kid you not, this is the only way I could keep myself from falling back asleep. So its 6 AM, and I've just impacted the coffee table and the floor. I can see where this day is going already.
Up on my feet and off to the shower to further the "waking up" process. It was the key to the whole morning. The shower, combined with swiping my roommates muscle milk that he was never going to drink, was enough to get me cognitive and functioning. So at about 7:20, off I went to my orientation. Drove all the way downtown and found the building I needed. I wasn't sure how long I'd be, so I fed about a dollar fifty into the parking meter. Headed inside and was immediately lost. This, my dears, is why I leave early for EVERYTHING. Even if I know exactly where I'm going there is inevitably something that goes wrong. Traffic, car, gas, forgot my purse, whatever the case may be. So I tried walking around to the other door and was greeted with relief by the sight of an information desk. Don't ask me why there is another main entrance with no guides or signs what-so-ever, but there was. Go figure I'd find it. The man at the desk directed me to where I needed to go and off I went. I walked in to the vocational offices and discovered that... there was no orientation. I had the wrong day. Or so I thought! One of the ladies called over to another building and discovered that they were having a 9 AM orientation and that my name was listed as registered for it. Well, thanks for letting me know guys!
Slightly annoyed with my loss of $1.50, I headed to my car and took off to the next location. I arrived in short time, and so by 8:15 I am sitting and waiting... and waiting... and waiting... and waiting. 9 AM rolls around, nothing. By now I'm starting to worry a little. Its hard to tell if I missed something I was supposed to do, but I wait. I tell myself, "Have patience, wait 10 minutes and then ask." At exactly 9:09 I hear, "Anyone for the vocational rehabilitation orientation, would you please come with me?" I leap up very anxiously, and realize... no one else is even looking up. I am the only one in the room here for this purpose. As we walk back she comments on this, and decides that instead of sitting in the meeting room with just the two of us, we'll sit at her desk. I appreciated this, as it felt far more secure. One of my quirks is that I feel more comfortable in smaller spaces, because I feel less exposed. So she and I talked, for a long time, actually. I talked to her about my life, my issues, my doctors and visits with specialists, and she told me about herself, and her family. I don't know what it is about me, but people feel comfortable telling me things they don't normally reveal to strangers. By the end of it, I knew about her three children and her son's age and experience in school. She was very kind, and expressed surprise at how I dealt with and reacted to my lot in life. She commented that I was very upbeat and seemed "very determined". She congratulated me on how well I was doing, and expressed empathy with my disabilities. I had to keep smiling, because the more she talked, the more I could only think of my mother and her cold dismissal of any possible problems with my health. Why is it so easy for a stranger to connect with me and empathize, and yet my own mother cannot feel any compassion or understanding for me? The rest of the day was a blur, and all I could seem to do was dwell on how bothered it made me that my mother was so cruel.
And yet... here I sit, with a smile on my face. My friends are my truest blessing in life. They keep me sane, they keep me laughing... and then there is him. The man who seems to slowly be worming his way in to my heart day by day. Each crack he fills seems to magically come to life as it has not done in years. I am not naive enough to believe that I am looking at happily ever after, here. We are not even a couple... but there is something about him that I cannot deny, and I enjoy. So until such a day as he tells me not to, I will check my phone every five minutes and plot my return to his arms, because that is just how much I miss him.
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