Archive for Notes

Handicapped Parking

Posted in Writing with tags , , , , , , , , on December 5, 2015 by urbannight
r7_fasciitis

The source of my heel pain.

I admit that when I see people parking in the handicapped parking spots that look perfectly able I have a twinge of annoyance. But I have two things that could enable me to get handicapped parking that are not visible so I know that you can’t know by seeing.

I have Plantar Fasciitis which has never really gone away. I have to wear ugly shoes all the time. I have some okay flats I can can wear for dress up but I can’t wear them to many days in a row, even with my inserts, without triggering a flare up. This pain is crippling and makes walking any distance a nightmare. I also have severely painful nerve pain in my thigh that developed when I was not overweight. So my doctor said that losing the weight gain that it and the Plantar Fasciitis resulted in may never make it go away.

My first doctor just kept telling me to lose weight and didn’t really treat anything. The nerve pain slowed me down and started the weight gain process and the Fasciitis developed as I was still trying to lose the weight and started a two year period where I could barely get around. I had to switch doctors until I found someone who would treat the problem problem instead of telling my weight was the problem, seeing how the weight gain was all after I developed the first issue and made worse by the second issue.

I could barely get from my car to the office at my job. I was in the lower parking lot. I could barely do my shopping. I was told I could have gotten a handicapped tag to park closer and when shopping I suppose I could have used the carts you sit in and drive around. I never did because of a stubborn streak inside that equated that with giving up and giving in.

But because of that I know that you can’t always see why someone has to park in a handicapped spot.

The reason I get annoyed with people parking in those spots is that I often see people who do not have the plates or the hang tags using those spots. I see these articles about people posting notes they find on their car when they park there. Some people do say, or even show, that they have the plates or the tags to park there. In those cases, the people putting notes on cars are totally in the wrong.

But some of these stories avoid saying if the person parking there didn’t have the correct plates or didn’t put up a hang tag. If you don’t have anything indicating that you need to use those spots, you shouldn’t get so upset when people complain about it. Admittedly, that doesn’t give other people the right to be nasty about it either.  Being upset because people were nasty is one things.  Being upset because people complained is another if you don’t have handicapped plates or a hang tag.  If you are going to use those spots and don’t want people to think you are doing something wrong or being selfish and taking a spot someone might need then just fill out the paperwork and get the hanging tag at the very least.

Strange Brew – Carrots?

Posted in Entertainment with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 19, 2012 by urbannight

What does three bundles of carrots mean? What do they MEAN?????

Dreams are a strange concoction of events, movies, books, and random input in your life being sorted and processed by the subconscious.  I do think that dreams can have meaning and messages.  But these need to be interpreted in the context of your life, not from some kind of dream dictionary.  But sometimes a dream is just a dream.  Here was my weird one from last night.

I’m working late at work, to get some more sections done on a project.  We can work up to 2 hours over time a week in reality.  In my dream, this was not a limit.  I get the impression I was making up for some time off I took. (in reality, I’m out of sick days and I took an unpaid sick day last week.  I was also supposed to go in and work 2 hours OT Saturday and I was too sick to go.)

I wasn’t feeling well so I decided to take a bath.  Our cubicles were bigger and for some reason, instead of a desk section behind me, I had a bathtub and t.v.  I then fell asleep in the bathtub. (this weekend, I kept wanting to take a bath but took showers instead.  Sunday, I went to take a bath and decided a nap sounded better.  I slept about 5 hours.  It was a LONG nap.)

The cubicles have an extra wall section that is hinged and works as a sort of door.  I hear the cleaning crew come in so I get up and get dressed.  One of the cleaners asks me to call his pastor because they need some money for gas and baby food.  I call and leave a message.

It is very late yet there were a lot of people working.  There was an entire accounting department (that doesn’t exist) that worked overnight shifts. (I suspect this is from me watching way to many episodes of Supernatural, back to back, on Netflix almost every day.) 

I finish my tasks and turn around to find something on the floor inside my door.  It’s a mystery note from the mysterious pastor saying these people are not who they say they are and they are trying to extort money from him.  He had notified authorities but he was giving me a reward.  Pinned to it was 50$.  This seemed really strange. 

I tuck it in my wallet with the rest of my money (for some reason, all my money is in my wallet and not my bank) and put my wallet in my purse.  I’ve had a bad feeling about this from the moment they showed up. 

The rest of the cleaning crew is leaving and the man and his wife come up to my cube and she is not Hispanic.  (Okay, everywhere I’ve worked in the last 6 years has had Hispanic cleaning crews.  I’m not trying to stereotype.  This is just an element from my life experience in this city.)  She was also not part of the cleaning crew.  I’m feeling gratified that there are a lot of accountants around right now so I’m not alone with them.

She demands her money.  I don’t have ‘her’ money, but I do have a note the pastor left for them.  (Why he snuck in and out I don’t know.) It is just a folded bit of paper and I’m trying to find it in all my receipts and cash and stuff.  She keeps trying to peek around me and into my purse.  She can’t so she finally tells me to hive her my purse. 

“No. I am not giving you my purse.  You do not need to look in my purse.” (the only direct line I can remember from the dream.  She then gets all huffy and tries to act all official and like she is going to try to put me under citizen’s arrest or something.  (I watched The Watch, it was rather boring.)  I know she plans to rob me.  I just cock my head at her and tell her she isn’t touching me or my purse and that I am going to call the police. 

An accountant, hearing the argument, stops and hangs out near us.  She doesn’t believe I will call the police.  I pick up the phone and dial 911.  As I’m doing this, I notice there are several bunches of carrots on the floor.  I have no idea why they are there.  I’m pondering this as the 911 operator answers the phone and I wake up.

What an awful place to wake up.  I want to know what happened next.  I’m really confused by the carrots.  I really just want to know about those carrots.  Who care about what would have happened next.  I was ready to thow down with that woman.