Don't want to add to the pity party in the MS groups, so I'm gonna vent this shit here.
Today was a meds day (elbow dropped my Chinese hamster ovaries, even had a pic made about it)
and I come in to work with a later start so I can nap them off (my well-established erratic sleeping patterns make doing it before going to bed an issue) and then go in for work in a state that's semi-human. However, I didn't get like a proper nap, only lightly dozed, so I was really worthless today. Like even Moms was worrying over how I was going through the motions of daily life, which is kinda weird because Friday injects, on the back of my arm (I set the auto-injector standing up on my desk and then "do an elbow drop" on the top of it and trigger the Corporate Colored Sonic Screwdriver)) have usually been my easiest day, both in pain and site reaction. As long as I can nap them off, I'm pretty decent, at least until the ibuprofen I took about an hour before injecting wears off and I get all flu-like again.
Anyways, after the Regional Manager, Kevin (who is here covering things while my Manager is out of town on a family emergency thing) actually hung around and worked the register while I took care of doing the closing stuff out in the lobby (and taught him about how I time the closing duties and why I wait until this time to do that thing and junk and stuff) Moms rolls in and Kevin's outside smoking and they chat a bit....whatevs.
Wasn't until later I found out that she was all, "I'm so glad you stuck around because Billy was having a tough time with his meds today."
Shit.
But when she tells me this, it's right after I decide to break into the emergency supply of cannabis, and she's all, "It's like I got my old son back!"
I was fucking choked up over that, fer realsies. It wasn't until later that the "Shit." moment happened, when my brain started properly grasping the details of the story. I've worked hard to regain as much of my pre-MS awesomeness as possible....I take pride in the gains I've made and kinda dig it when people find out and have no idea that I'm impaired the way I am. The fact that she could tell and that she would clue Kevin in to the fact that I was not at my usual levels of awesomeness both kinda horrify me. Spotting it? OK. You're Moms, you're gonna notice that shit, but to break my kayfabe like that? I was doing a fairly decent job (IMO) of faking the funk.
I had wondered why he got all 20 questions about my shitty shit while I was closing down the main till and doing the Store Close in the system. Funny how a single fact makes everything clear. And here I was thinking that he was showing an actual interest in the condition of his Ace of The Cage (corporate nickname for our tiny little store)
Anyways, I guess the moral of the story is: No matter how good you are at faking it, your cover can be blown by a well meaning human being that knows the truth.
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