Tuesday, March 7, 2017

University Circle, Magnetic Magnolias, and Vera

That feeling when the whole world knows you are a ninja when it comes to panicking.

Resident Manager (paraphrased text): Vera, just a head's up: you're getting the obligatory 3-day notice from us because we haven't received your rent yet.

Me (also paraphrased text): It cleared my bank account. I also have a receipt from the online payment source.

RM: Okay, send that to me.

Me: *emails rent receipt*

RM: Who is this online payment source?

Me: Umm, the one that is listed on the property's website?

RM: Okay, I did receive your payment, but the funds haven't come over to us yet. You're good. Thanks!

*facepalm*

I knew I shouldn't have destroyed my bank checks before I went to the Crisis Mobilization Unit a few weeks ago.

Besides that, my psychiatrist trying to bill my relatively new health insurer for payment of a session and getting nothing but fail, getting about 28 phone calls a day from credit card companies wondering where their payment is, and jumping back into the fray of finding companionship and (gasp!) love, for once I can not complain. I'm entirely decent at this very moment.

WHOA. Holy shit, Vera! Who did you kill this time?

Your imaginary friend, Dear Reader.

My imagin....HEY! Don't get smart with me!

Pardon the ableism, but don't get stupid with me.

*mocking tone* Oooooh, I'm telling....

Yeah? If whomever you tell cares enough, then send them my way so they can give me the best sex of my life, mmmkay?

You that desperate, bruh?

No, not really. With this menopause killing my sex drive (there; something died), I have been focused on, well, non-sex things.

Such as?

I made a slight adjustment in my medication. I didn't alter the dosage of my meds, just the administration of two of my meds. I swapped the time periods of one of my antidepressants and my progesterone. That, plus a phone app that reduces the blue light when the sun goes down, promoting natural melatonin in my system so I sleep at night, equates to no nap-nap (like my legendary naps) in some time now and the crucial reset of my circadian rhythm.

I'm now back to getting my 7-8 hours of sleep with no interruptions during the night and no signs of PTSD nightmares.

That's a cool idea.  What else is going on?

Well, so far I have gone a whole month without relying on payday loans, which is great.  And because my sleep has been fixed for the time being, my habits on eating and spending have also improved some. I've managed not to buy a new backpack or a notebook of any type. Somehow, I managed to find bras, in my size, for less than $20 each.  Okay, fine: they are made in China; internet search "Size 48H Bras" on your online engine of choice and ask yourself if self surgical removal is right for me. I have also been really calm, which is nice, because I actually like this calm feeling thing. I haven't chewed off anyone's head lately, which is a bonus.

I don't know if I'll get used to being entirely decent.  It feels like a giant storm has passed on by.

And speaking of decent, I visited a facility in the University Circle neighborhood of Cleveland called Magnolia Clubhouse.  It is a place where adults living with mental illness (*points at self*) can go and be part of something quite awesome, in my opinion.  Magnolia Clubhouse helps folks with obtaining educational, social, and employment skills in order to either return back to school or to secure some kind of paying job. The folks there are pretty laid back and friendly. And there are lots to do; learning food management and hospitality, learning administrative and office environments, and even a TV studio where folks produce a weekday news program among other things.

Magnolia Clubhouse does have its drawbacks, however.  Even though Magnolia Clubhouse welcomes all adults living with mental illness, it is not (yet) wheelchair accessible.  The building was probably built in the 19th century; it has all the warmth and charm of yesteryear as well has all the stairs. And those stairs are no joke; they are steep and tall and curvy.  There may be a lot of things going on and work to be done, it's also done in a very cramped space. The room with the largest space available is their dining area, where lunch is served.  For a $1 daily visit due, meanwhile, you do get that lunch for free.

The facility also has a antique store called "Bloomin'," where they sell vintage items donated by folks from all walks of life, and 100% of the proceeds go to the Clubhouse. That store, located in an adjacent building, also is not (yet) wheelchair accessible; the Clubhouse is raising money so that they can install elevators in both buildings.

Is this something you would like to return to?

I don't know. The Clubhouse were ecstatic about seeing "young faces," which tells me that, along with other groups that were hip and populous in the 1980s and 1990s, may be seeing its way out by 2021. Also, the "encouragement" of getting involved with some function that makes the Clubhouse run is not appealing to me. A fellow club member asked me if I was there to go back to school or to go back to work, to which I replied, "neither." I still have that hesitation of going to a place, 5 days a week, let's say, several hours a day, and do assignments.  It's that indoor work environment that makes me more than uncomfortable; it downright terrorizes me.

Sure, they have free meals. It's in a historic and lovely neighborhood. Hell, this place also sells discounted disabled bus passes. It looks like a great opportunity for me to save up a few dollars by utilizing this invaluable community resource and blah blah blah.

If anything from this visit today, it did make me question: "what is it that I value"?

You can add "my freedom" to the list of items that I hold dear and near to my heart.

Are you seriously willing to pass up getting back into the broadcast game?

Yeah, I am.  Unless if I'm hosting a game show or doing some spoken word performance on stage, I am not interested in going back behind the scenes, playing technical director or video editor.  And I'm not sorry.  I enjoyed my broadcast career when I was in it, and right now I have no desire to be back in the field that I once loved.

If anything, I want to travel and see new things and discover the history of wherever I go.  Yeah, it's not as lucrative as being a General Schedule, or GS, Grade 5, Step 4 accounting technician for the federal government, but at least I don't feel like I'm living in a cage with no escape.

And I don't feel comfortable taking an opportunity away from someone who truly needs it.

In the end, I will find my way.  Whatever Vera wants, Vera gets.

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