God Bless the Child That's Got His Own

I've been taking mental health days off of school and work since birth, I was actually late coming out.  As a matter of fact I was given a choice to join society for Kindergarten by my mother who didn't sell it strongly but still I was very reluctant to commit to daily interactions with the public and so I declined.  I knew very early on that this was my Achilles heel...joining human kind.

To this day I need major recovery days.  Today was that day. 

Previously on 'Retail Hell' - I walk into my shift and report to the host desk.  That's where we take names and people wait for the next available coworker, like a restaurant.  There a woman is beginning to get to that point, almost yelling, getting riled up, something about what she was told over the phone.  There are a few scattered contractors waiting for help and now an older couple walk up.  I can see the host is rattled and needs help so I chime in.  Immediately the woman is telling me in a very loud high pitched voice, Yes you WILL sit down and plan out my kitchen with me right now!...she started fading out.  This was enough to really push me right up to my edge.  That boundary where all gloves are off.  Where I agreed never to crossover at work.
I just clocked in but what I didn't realize was just how close I was to that rim upon waking.  My heart was racing like a rabbit, she took two more jabs, something that sounded personal.  I immediately disengaged.  I took the next person ignoring all protocol. There was a full moon coming I instantly realized. I can't ignore the symptoms.  The darting mind and nervousness.  The rage levels.  The unease, very similar to coming down off 70's acid if you recall that werewolf-like night of breathing heavily and inability to sleep.  The worst. 
Similar situations occurred all day where we finally had to acknowledge it in a short conversation. Isn't it strange Blanka said, everyone seems to be whack.  Must be something in retrograde she snickered.  The night ended in an appointment with a couple, the woman named Bliss.  By that name I just knew she had been told her whole life she was special.  She was very pretty and fairly young.  Unfortunately very annoying and bossy too.  Her husband was homely and I decided he wasn't about to reign her in for me although he did surprise me and agreed with my logic more than a few times.   I know exactly what I want and where I want it, she said.  She spoke quickly and definitively.  I announced right off the bat I was running at about half of their speed, so please have patience.  Its an old Columbo type trick I use on the privileged to put us all at ease.  They see me as inferior and their guard comes down.  I get to run the appointment on my own timeline otherwise I'd be chasing butterflies all day as our general public suffers from a serious lack of focus.  Still, when I questioned her desire to put a 109 inch peninsula in the middle of a tiny apartment, she made clear she was a designer.  She insisted on seeing multiple views and changing the cabinet orientations every few minutes.  I jokingly brought up the irony of her opening statement.  The husband caught it and started to laugh but quickly stifled himself.  I was spent at the end of the appointment that ran over 2 hours.  Their layout was whack to use Blanka's term. Afterwards she clarified that she was a designer of greeting cards, to which I had to mentally excuse myself and leave the entire building because of the ridiculousness of human behavior this week.  And THIS is why mental health days are real and should be covered, especially in retail. 

 Burrito and taco. Take out from Fatty Daddy on Smith St in Brooklyn.