Two things happened to me at the office this morning that seem worth commenting on:
1. The Chaliceboss comes in and asks for one of my postcard-style invitations. I hand her one and ask why she needs it. She says she’s designing a postcard for something and wants to measure it and use the same size. I said that my invitations are 5.5 by 8.5, but that I send them first class with a .37 cent stamp. To qualify for a postcard rate, the postcard needs to be 4.25 by 6. And I realized that I’m the sort of person who knows postal regulations off the top of her head. And I don’t quite know what to think about that one as if my high school class had elected somebody "Least likely to know about postal regulations" that person might have been me.
2. Our office runs a mail shop, and the mail shop employs adults with Down Syndrome to fold and stuff the mail sometimes. Today, I took my normal 10 a.m. trip to the break room to decide which Lean Cuisine I want for lunch. I don’t know why I always do this, but I always do. I want to know two hours in advance.
A lady with Downs Syndrome is at the microwave, trying to pull a freshly-microwaved TV dinner out.
”Ow!” She says, pulling her hand away. She immediately reaches for it again “Ow!” she says and reached out a third time, “Ow!”
“You might want to give it a few minutes to cool off” I say simply.
“OK!” She says.
And it occurs to me that I am like this in so many aspects of my own life that I can’t even judge.
So I fill my water glass and head back to my office
CC
Salmon with Basil today, thanks for asking.
1 comment:
I learned lessons like this every day when I was a social worker for adults with developmental disabilities. Somebody would want to write a plan where they would smoke less or clean their room daily or something, and I was like, normal life means nobody tells you when to clean your room unless you're a public health hazard and nobody but your doctor and dentist tell you to quit smoking and you still don't do it. My normal life anyway.
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