Optical Allusionist

What a week this has been. Well, more precisely, a week and a half. Last Wednesday, I started a new job at Lone Peak High School. On the way home from work, a guy ran a stop sign, and I t-boned him because of it. I (stupidly) was not wearing my seat belt at the time, so I launched forward and cracked my head on the corner of the sun visor. I missed the next two days of work. I was having headaches, I was very emotional, and I didn't feel ready to go back to work. I was frustrated because I had interviewed to be a parking tracker. (They help boot and ticket cars that are parked illegally) Instead, when I got there, they asked if I would feel comfortable following Eric, a highly-functioning autistic tenth grader, to all of his classes, and making sure he spent his time productively... K. Not fair. I didn't even interview for that job. In the interview, I said I would be willing to *take him from one class to another*, not be responsible for his work ethic. I've never done anything like this before! I've never had a job where someone was depending on me so heavily! I was reluctant for the job, but I wanted to give them the best impression possible of me, and so I said I'd love to do that, and that I'd be totally comfortable. I figured that if I were to start, I'd get used to the job. I mean, everybody's first day of any job sucks, right?
That weekend was labor day weekend, so I was supposed to drive down to Kellie's in Price. The drive down that Sunday was fine. It was beautiful, easy, and exciting. I was going to see Kellie!! My time there was amazing. I can't describe how much I love Kellie. We didn't do much; I mean, what is there to do in Price? But we got some things in: taking a walk looking at all the old houses, eating at the local bakery, and almost mistaking a freeway offramp for a regular side street. Most of all, however, I just enjoyed my time being near my kindred spirit. I could really go off on a tangent here about how much I love my friend, but that's not what this post is supposed to be about. Another time.
Soooo... i have this thing where I have a hard time sometimes staying awake while I drive. And so I've gotten used to listening to my body, asking whether or not it's safe for me to drive. So, here it is Monday afternoon, and I'm so happy to be with Kellie, that I lose track of responsibility. The later it gets, the longer I am forgetting that I have this sleeping/driving problem. Finally, I'm walking to my car, and I realize that if I start driving, I am not going to be making it to Utah County in one piece. I inform Kellie I'll be sleeping in my car, but she'll hear none of that, so I sleep with her again, in anticipation of my leaving for work early the next morning.
It's the next morning. Tuesday, and I'm finally starting to form in my brain how much I hate this job, how unfair it was that they stuck me in this position. To top it all off, I got, maybe, an hour sleep that night. I'd been laying in bed unable to sleep for most of the night. Kellie and I talk for a while, she reminds me that it IS unfair what they've done, and that I should talk with them about it. So, with a strong heart, I leave for American Fork again. I get about a third through the canyon, and I realize, I can't make it all the way home... Reluctantly, I leave a message on Rex's (my boss) answering machine, and turn back around for Price. I barely make it there, take some sleeping pills, and sleep for several hours. Once more, I'm refreshed, but I decide to shirk my responsibilities, since I'm sure I'll be able to easily make it back to American Fork that afternoon.
Surprise. I wasn't able to drive AGAIN. I felt like a complete failure. Kellie was mad because I wanted to sleep in the car, so as to not be a burden. It was a tough night, but I eventually lightened up enough, and we made the most of a yucky situation. That night we were getting ready for bed, and I felt very nauseous. I've been throwing up a lot more lately, because my body decided that regurgitating was an appropriate response to emotional overload. Actually, hasha, I almost threw up a couple times because I was so overwhelmingly happy. Not cool. I hate throwing up. Almost, almost more than I hate weeding.
Next morning, I slept through my alarm so I ended up without a job. Rex and I eventually talked, and he encouraged me to explain why I wanted the job. I explained that I loved the environment, but that, for Eric's sake, they should hire someone who could better fit up to what Eric needed. So, I was without a job. But that was okay, since there's a place in Orem I used to work that was in love with me, and accepted me back in a heartbeat. I'm back to janitorial. Which is great. I love cleaning toilets. (not joking)
So, I got back to American Fork and had begun to work. Things could only get better from there, right? ... Um, not yet.
Since I was 12 or so, I've been raising a tree that's been growing on the north side of my house. His name is Gregory, and I would have conversations with him, tell him how beautiful he was, tell him about how my day had gone, and just sit and talk with him. I felt a very special connection to him, and I thought of him as my friend. If you don't understand this, don't worry about it. (just don't tell me) I loved Gregory deeply. Thursday, I was walking around the side of the house, and realized Gregory wasn't there anymore. I found out later that my dad had cut it down, to make it easier to mow that area. I was mad. I was hurt. I was anguished. I was sorry. I was grieving. My friend was dead.
I hadn't had the best week, but nothing had been able to entirely set off my emotions like losing Gregory. My friend.
So, my friend is dead. Part of me feels numb still, not wanting to think about how important he was to me, because I love him so much, and it hurts that he's gone.
Later that day, I got pulled over for going 12 over the speed limit. I got a warning on the speeding, but when the policeman scanned my driver's license, he found that it'd been rejected because of some medical problems. I had no idea what he was talking about, but as I drove away, I realized they were talking about the psychiatric anti-depressants I take. Dangit. Dangit, dangit, dangit.
As if it could get better, I got all four wisdom teeth pulled Friday at 7 in the morning. I reacted better than expected to the anesthetics, but I was throwing up everything, including all the liquids I was slowly sipping. When I'd throw up, it would tear open the wounds in my mouth again, and I'd start spitting or swallowing large gobs of blood. Yuck. But I have an anti-nausea medicine to correct the side effects of the anti-pain pill. And now I'm feeling pretty spectacular in this regard.

It hasn't been a fun weekend, or week, in many ways, but y'know. Things do get better. It kind of sucked, but things are gonna be okay.