I woke up this afternoon and found this:
At some point whilst getting dressed. taking a bath, downing some Mtn. Dew, etc. I had left my drawer open and naturally my cat Calypso thought: "Hey! That's a wonderful place to take a nap." Needless to say I didn't have the heart to shoo her away so I snapped a pic, posted it on twitter and went back to my day.
Which in case you haven't already guessed involves me going back to work. :) This is my third day back so far and I am fucking exhausted. It took a couple of tries to get me into a station where I felt reasonably comfortable but I finally feel like I can start the long road back to recovery at work. This is really just the third stage and I still have who knows how many left but progress I am a making.
And I want to cry all the time.
I was not at all ready to face the mouth of the beast so to speak. Being back on the conveyor line seeing all those Model S's in various states of assembly was both awe inspiring and a source of sheer terror. I was constantly watching the floor and moving over and picking up anything that might be a trip hazard even going to far as to stop what I was doing to move an air hose. Monday night when I went back to work I was really excited. I was looking forward to seeing my old coworkers again, seeing what changes have been made and see the Model X for the first time ever. But about half way through the night the only thing I cared about was not tripping over some doofy thing and then ending right back in the hospital. It was so frightening I had ask my boss to move to another station last night which thankfully, he gladly did. I do feel safer now and I'm hoping that the constant fear turning my intestines into rope bondage class will eventually subside. I don't really know what else to do but soldier on.