US pulls out of UN Human rights council.

reut.tv/2I1wL9X

Stuck

A few days ago I was walking through my living room, minding my own business, when I managed to trip over the only thing on the floor that doesn’t belong, my running shoe. When I fall, I Fall. On the way down I hit my hip on the, now flattened, coffee table; Hit the sofa tearing the cushion. Then landed. Wedged between what was left of the coffee table and the sofa. After assessing my situation for a few seconds, I tried to get up off the floor ( which I now know needs vacuuming ) with no success.

As described in earlier posts, I am a big guy and at the best of times it is hard to get up off the floor. Adding the fact that I was wedged, I was slipping into panic mode. Anxiety makes you do funny things like think about calling 911 to rescue me from my predicament. Common sense kicked in and I decided having Firefighters come rushing in here just to lift me from the floor was overreacting a little bit.

Then it dawned on me to move the coffee table so I could get up ( I’m not a total idiot this all took place in a matter of seconds.) So with minimal effort I moved the crushed table and used the sofa to get up. Problem solved.

I had the table propped up and the rip in the sofa taped up with duct tape by supper time. I ate supper and went to bed, carefully, not lying on the side with bruised hip. Had a dream of getting hit by a truck.

The next morning I got up did my bathroom stuff and headed for the living room. I stumbled in the same place as the day previous. On the same old shoe. I hadn’t fallen this time so there was no need for the paramedics this time, but that shoe is in the garbage.

I am a Chef

Being a papered chef, I guess I should write about it. Maybe throw in a couple of recipes here and there. Possibly a technique I picked up from some old Asian woman I met on an adventure through the jungles.

But, the truth be told, right after graduating, I had a complete breakdown and have been holed up at home ever since.

There I was taking pictures with the Dean, Diploma in hand, and got that wispy feeling inside me. I did get through the ceremonies intact, And made it home all right. In fact I Landed the perfect job right away.

The first day started at 7am, I am not a day person. But I got up, made it to work on time. Walked in to the restaurant head held high. Proudly wearing my freshly laundered Whites. I was shown the kitchen and being the there were 2 huge turkeys spinning around in the slow cook ovens. My first job was to help move the turkeys thanksgiving was the next day (yes, that big 2 persons to a bird) to a nearby cutting table. The first one transferred okay, with the second bird I was a little won-key . Just as the bird hit the table, my knees buckled and I almost hit the floor.

Quickly excusing myself I headed for the safety of the washroom. I couldn’t believe it I was washing out on my first job. I made it through the day (barely) went home showed, went to bed, and fell asleep right away.

I was up bright and early the next day. My Whites still pressed, and I was ready for a fresh attempt at the position. The first thing out of the manager’s mouth is how poorly I did the dishes yesterday and they are going have to train me how to do dishes.

If you want to insult a Chef, that’s the way to do it. Blame them for the dirty dishes. I took her aside and asked her if she actually read my resume. I was in clear print that I have an anxiety problem and get really ticked off when over ambitious, Power hungry, nincompoop (yes I used the word nincompoop) bossing me around  just to mask their own insecurities

That was the last day I worked there. I went to see my doctor about why I was so wobbly, He changed my meds and put me on the disabled list. (still there today)

That was 2 years ago and I have been talking to my Doctor about dropping my meds to functional levels  and returning to the workforce. He is thinking about it. I am looking at employment advertisements.

Wish me luck!