Life hard, but I try make best.Me can't believe this -- four years of professional life, right down drain. Suddenly I not good enough after suffer major stroke? My life become Hell -- living Hell. You ever read Americans Disability Act? Maybe should. No -- I allowed jump conclusions. This clear case discrimination. Cut, dry. You not know how brain affected. My brain.
What? I late for work 20 consecutive days? I explain something. World different now to my brain. Sometimes take wrong way into town. Sometimes mistake local bar for office workplace. Think amazing selection of microbrews are important files, start filing. Filing take hours, boss know that! Then realize sad truth, and try get here as fast as can. Sometimes pay barman with cocktail napkins -- mad at first, but once explain condition, he understand. Sometimes bring strange woman home, thinking wife come to office for quickie. But real wife, she understand. She also understand why no longer can load dishwasher or clean cat box. She understand, why not you?
So Susan say I grope her in kitchenette. Likely story. But not like last time, have excuse. Like when get drunk in the morning, sometimes brain not understand what certain objects supposed to be. So Susan come to work in tight sweater, try to avoid eye contact. See her in hallway, not talk, as HR people say. But this time, Susan have two big candy bars for me. Maybe she apologize for past It honest mistake.transgressions? I reach out to grab, and they not feel like candy bars. So I say "Curse brain!" and Susan run screaming into parking lot. She not read pamphlet I write about stroke complications? Shocked and ashamed. Brain create new world, not know how to cope. Box of paper clips on desk right now look like box of spiders. Keep away.
Productivity? You try stay productive when brain turn on you. If alarmed by websites visited during work hours, know it honest mistake. Sometimes vital Excel documents look like Amazing POV Sluts.avi. Oh, but you no understand. What look like sales data and quotas just oily flopping genitals to boss. See world through my eyes and you know. Sometimes mistake strip club for office and think writhing women giant spreadsheets. And then thrown out and beaten, just for trying to do job. Sometimes think want kill self. But not raised that way.
Claim not substantiated? How stroke happen? Okay, I dignify with response. Go out to chicken wing restaurant with family. Order hottest wings there. Make sign waiver. Eat wings, have stroke. It that simple. I give you three Web MD comments, they back up claim. SilverDragon69 say he eat same wing, now go home to sports bar every night instead of loving wife. Brain funny thing. One day you waking up Sigh, another day at office. You not have be crazy to work here, but it help.every morning for crap job, then suddenly you enjoying self in different place and not know better. Hell -- Hell on Earth. Only way to describe. Rip out pages from Gideon's Bible and spend on lap dances all day. Not know better.
Why not get someone help? Oh, you like that. Sure that do a lot for confidence, man hovering beside me, he say "you at Knockers and not office job, you dope." Not help with autonomy. Doctor at mall clinic say I need get back on feet. And this not helping. This whole rigmarole. I just try to live life, and you get in way. Story of life. Cop stop me on street, he say "what doing?" I say, "using bathroom." He say, "this not bathroom, this ball pit at Discovery Zone." Not know how to get out that situation. Think of Seinfeld, then draw blank.
Well, I sorry too if I you. Now if excuse me, need get back work. What? No, this not office building, this volcanic crater. Work dark, damp, have delicious files, Huey Lewis and News on jukebox. Oh look, Susan in crater too. Maybe she need ride?
Keep eye on box of spiders. That not even good idea to begin with.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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