I'm sitting in Panera... my mom is talking to our Korean ESL student and I'm occasionally interjecting (fun fact: Did you know I'm actually a tenor?).
But I'm so done. So, so, so done.
I melt daily. And then there's the panic attacks.
The supervisor for my Waiver services called me an hour before our meeting today to say that things "got away" from her and that she didn't ever call my Community Inclusion (CI) person. So, we can't meet today, sorry. Can I meet tomorrow? Well, no, I can't. Or Wednesday.
So we'll meet Thursday. Okay, that's qualifies as last minute change in plans, and cue me running into the hallway, bawling.
Then she calls back with the CI on the other line, and I could tell the CI was uh... angry. Not happy. Miffed. Something. What a way to introduce myself to the new staff.
And as she got off the line, I asked the supervisor if we would be on for next Wednesday for Bible study. Oh, actually, she's not available Wednesdays at all. I mean, the ONE thing I wanted to do with CI, and I can't do it.
So now I'm left to "use" my friends, who are kind enough to help me in the crowds and through the panic attacks, but really? It's not their job. And I feel really, really guilty for it.