Having wandered through Fantasyland, Adventureland, and Tomorrowland, it appears I'm now safely on the locomotive that endlessly circles the park. No one tells me to get off. Every now and then I pass through the tunnel, smell the moldy cardboard, stop at every station, wonder if the people in the submarine know they're not really underwater. This isn't fun anymore.
I've got an appointment next week with a vocational rehabtortionist. He asked me to get some things together. My resume... ha. An Indian Treaty of lies and brittle promises. My work history... a list of every opportunity I've blown, every floundering boat I've ever sailed in. My disability worthiness paperwork... what's that? Oh, it's that paperwork my psychologist completed that someone at SS read and said, "Wow, he's so crazy he's disabled." Another nail in my coffin. Having spent time in a mental hospital. Does that get me to the top of a candidate list? Failed out of university until I scraped by in trade school. Does that get me back into school now? I failed Algebra THREE times in college. That's got to make me uniquely qualified for something. Should I bring in the letter I got from the town Animal Shelter that advised me they selected another candidate for Kennel Maintenance Person who, "is more qualified" than me. How is that job beyond my abilities?
Sometimes I forget myself, and stand up to try. That's when I see how the world has always seen me. I understand. I'll sit back down now.