Barely. I'm creaky this morning and my poor ol' body just wants to cuddle with a pile of cat meat and sleep.
But I have my appointment with Vocational Rehabilitation at 9, and don't want to miss it.
I'm taking the bus, just to make sure. If I miss the appointment, my name goes back to the bottom of the waiting list for intake, and I'll have to wait two more months or more.
I have all my paperwork ready: application, documentation, etc.
I'm dreading this. I expect to be treated in a condescending manner. I expect not to be believed. I expect to have my accomplishments and talents viewed as "delusions of grandeur." I expect to have to resist their attempts to channel me into manual labor. I expect hair splitting.
I'm even afraid of possible home visits. They've asked for directions to my home. I expect that, if someone comes here, I'll get flack for my art and gardening supplies and tools, my cats, etc.
In other words, I expect to be examined by a critical eye, obsessed with minutae, just waiting for an opportunity to drop me through the cracks and leave me hanging.
This isn't paranoia; I've dealt with Voc. Rehab. before.
Still, if I CAN jump through all the hoops and avoid all the obstacles, I may get some real job training, medical, transportation, etc.
Maybe.
It's time for me to shower; my hair needs to be dry before I get on the bus.
I've turned the eggs, made a new pot of tea and done some other piddly chores already. After my shower, I'll breakfast, while my hair dries.
Wish me luck.
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