What Crappy Day

It didnt start off all that bad.  I woke up early from some disturbing dreams and after a really hot shower headed down to the garage.  I dressed in my woll knickers and a tweed jacket and took myself to coffee as the sun lit the West Elks in pink and orange.  That part was good.

Later, after the coffee was cold, I rode over for my intake appointment with my therapist.  This was hard and I knew it would be.  After about an hour and a half of picking scabs my body decided I’d had a enough and shut down with the first seizure of the day.  Ok, at least my therapist knows what they look like now and she was actually very accomodating and kind to me even though I fell like a heal every time someone sees me like that.

After some recovery time I probably pushed my luck a little too much and attended a team meeting trying to get caught up on all the changes that have happened since I dropped out.  We finished the meeting and I worked on my bike for a bit before Tess asked me to make a run to the grocery store.  Bike down, trailer hitched, I glanced at my email before I left.  There, a new thread about my impending return and all the paperwork I need to take care of, but have been unable to deal with because doctors have been on vacation, unreachable, or scheduled beyond the time I’ve requested to recover.

I mounted my bike and rode on over to the market where I was more or less stuck on that anxiety.  Wondering what might happen if I make a mistake because of my fucked memory or have a seziure in the middle of a meeting, it just kept looping.  The more the thoughts looped the more I worried, the dizzier I got, the harder it became to walk behind the cart.  Finally I made my way to the front of the store, ordered a cup of coffee in vein attempt to think about something else and sat down so at least I was closer to the floor.

Knowing you’re going to have a seizure I’m finding isn’t enough, I made my way back to the counter to tell the girls serving coffee there that a) I was probably going to hit the floor pretty soon and b) don’t call an ambulance unless there’s blood.  Then I called Tess who drove over to pick me up.  As she helped me to the car I went down in the front the store.  Strike two!

Finally I made it back to the house, up into bed, for my third and hopefully final fit.  What the hell is wrong with me?

Today was my 12 year anniversury at Microsoft, perhaps only marginally better than my 10 year anniversury (“Congradulations or something”).  If I lose my job because I can’t do my job who’s going to hire me like this?  What the hell am I going to do to make a living?  I suppose I can shake with a cup in my hand pretty well.

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