Almost! Friday

Overheard in New York: The Voice of the City You’ll go in with a straight face and roll out on LOLlerskates.

I had two out of four scheduled clients show up today. One was an assessment for a schizophrenic. One is never really aware of the intolerance of our society until confronted with the mentally ill. Schizophrenics frequently have little insight into their own difficulties and can’t articulate what’s going on with them, and this one was so isolated by people who treat her like she’s crazy that I could tell I was the first person in a long while who actually listened to her talk. She cried for a while, and the rest of the time she was angry, repeating over and over that she wanted a job, wanted help, and no one would help her. To which I replied, what kind of help do you need? I can see why some people make a career out of helping people like this - sometimes in a budget-crunched system all you can give is compassion, and sometimes that’s the difference between scraping by and jumping off an overpass.

In other news, tomorrow the clinic is closed due to one of those holidays the government offices take off, but the rest of the world doesn’t. I’m going in to train my replacement at Job. Hopefully, the gal will be quick on the uptake.

Really, I just want to sleep. Yesterday I had to cancel an appointment due to a migraine, which plagued me all day, until I got home, hurled lunch, and crashed for four hours straight, which meant I couldn’t really sleep last night. I kept waking up to find the Roommate’s tabby asleep in awkward spots, like between my feet, on my hip, or tucked up against my abdomen with her head in my armpit. I had this long, now-vague half-waking dream, in which I re-imagined every story in the C&C series - sort of the series I would have written if I started it today. Quite different, and some of it stuck with me after I woke up this morning. I was groggy most of the morning even though I had my requisite double-strength coffee. Today, I fear, I was not quite on my game. So I got home this afternoon feeling quite inadequate and with the first vibe of short-timer’s disease - I know that I will not be hired at the clinic, and it’s April this Saturday, which means seven weeks left in the semester, which means…. I need to find a friggin’ job in my field of choice.

I think I need yoga now.