Today Will Get Better, Right?
Jan. 5th, 2007 12:48 pmSlept poorly last night and woke up at 3:30 am. I got
careswen off to work and laid back down, but couldn't get back to sleep. Had breakfast, packed my bag, and headed in downtown Hopkins to run errands.
Went to Wells Fargo to deposit check, stopped at Driskoll's for some groceries, went into Snyder's Drugs for Dayquil and Nyquil. On the bus and heading home.
Unzipped my bag top and reached for my keys. They were gone. Went to garage and retrieved the extra set, opened the door, put away the groceries (discovering in the process I bought the wrong cheese) and looked for keys. Nothing.
Sigh and trudge back to bus stop. Looked for keys. Nothing. Get on the bus, which happens to be the same bus I rode home on. No keys. Retraced footsteps all over Hopkins, asking in various stories if anyone had turned in a set of keys. Nothing. No keys anywhere. Stop by police station and fill out report on my lost keys. Walk out to the street and watch bus home fly by. Walk home. With no keys.
Come inside, kick off shoes, start kettle of water, sit down at table, boot up laptop, and step on something hard under the table. Find keys.
So I decide to treat myself to lunch, since I found my keys. I walk over to the deli and order a gyro and start home.
As I'm walking down the sidewalk of the strip mall, I get accosted by a man, dressed professionally in slacks, tie and jacket, who, in a nasty, snarly voice, demands to know were I got the white cane.
From my rehab school, I tell him.
Man then accuses me of stealing the cane, because obviously I can see.
Try to patiently explain about my vision and that yes, I have some forward vision, but I have no peripheral vision and I'm legally blind.
Man calls me a liar and thief and advances on me.
I take a step backward and look for nearest door I can dive into to get away from the crazy man.
He steps toward me again as I try to retreat toward a door. He cuts me off from the first door I reach.
I'm starting to get pissed and ask him to please get out of my space. He gives me an arrogant look and shows me his cell phone, threatening to call the police.
I tell him I think that's a great idea. I say, "Let's step inside this place (I nod to the Chinese restaurant) and you can call the police and we can let them sort it out."
I reach for the door to the restaurant.
He grabs my sleeve.
I yank it away from him and say in my calmest voice, "Please don't touch me." I step into him.
He takes a step backwards and I slip into the Chinese restaurant. The dude rabbits. Jumps in a white SUV and drives south.
The whole time this encounter is happening, the animal part of my back-brain is saying, "Michael, you're four inches taller and about 70 pounds heavier than this guy. Put your stick on him and drive his sorry ass into the wall."
But I didn't, because that would have just escalated the encounter, making it worse. Though I think if he'd grabbed me again, all bets would have been off at that point.
And now I need to clean house.
And prep for gaming tomorrow.
And try to squeeze in some writing.
And take some drugs for the ick.
Today is going to get better, right?
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Went to Wells Fargo to deposit check, stopped at Driskoll's for some groceries, went into Snyder's Drugs for Dayquil and Nyquil. On the bus and heading home.
Unzipped my bag top and reached for my keys. They were gone. Went to garage and retrieved the extra set, opened the door, put away the groceries (discovering in the process I bought the wrong cheese) and looked for keys. Nothing.
Sigh and trudge back to bus stop. Looked for keys. Nothing. Get on the bus, which happens to be the same bus I rode home on. No keys. Retraced footsteps all over Hopkins, asking in various stories if anyone had turned in a set of keys. Nothing. No keys anywhere. Stop by police station and fill out report on my lost keys. Walk out to the street and watch bus home fly by. Walk home. With no keys.
Come inside, kick off shoes, start kettle of water, sit down at table, boot up laptop, and step on something hard under the table. Find keys.
So I decide to treat myself to lunch, since I found my keys. I walk over to the deli and order a gyro and start home.
As I'm walking down the sidewalk of the strip mall, I get accosted by a man, dressed professionally in slacks, tie and jacket, who, in a nasty, snarly voice, demands to know were I got the white cane.
From my rehab school, I tell him.
Man then accuses me of stealing the cane, because obviously I can see.
Try to patiently explain about my vision and that yes, I have some forward vision, but I have no peripheral vision and I'm legally blind.
Man calls me a liar and thief and advances on me.
I take a step backward and look for nearest door I can dive into to get away from the crazy man.
He steps toward me again as I try to retreat toward a door. He cuts me off from the first door I reach.
I'm starting to get pissed and ask him to please get out of my space. He gives me an arrogant look and shows me his cell phone, threatening to call the police.
I tell him I think that's a great idea. I say, "Let's step inside this place (I nod to the Chinese restaurant) and you can call the police and we can let them sort it out."
I reach for the door to the restaurant.
He grabs my sleeve.
I yank it away from him and say in my calmest voice, "Please don't touch me." I step into him.
He takes a step backwards and I slip into the Chinese restaurant. The dude rabbits. Jumps in a white SUV and drives south.
The whole time this encounter is happening, the animal part of my back-brain is saying, "Michael, you're four inches taller and about 70 pounds heavier than this guy. Put your stick on him and drive his sorry ass into the wall."
But I didn't, because that would have just escalated the encounter, making it worse. Though I think if he'd grabbed me again, all bets would have been off at that point.
And now I need to clean house.
And prep for gaming tomorrow.
And try to squeeze in some writing.
And take some drugs for the ick.
Today is going to get better, right?