personal

3 posts

Growing up with ADHD

I have struggled to find the courage to sit down and expel this story from where it lay, lodged deep down under some or other memories that I’m more comfortable with. I have told myself that this story would be difficult to write simply because of how not terrible the experience was as a whole. I believe the truth is that I’m uncertain of how this story will sound when it’s in print. What light may shed on these relics from my past. I sit here now determined to excavate that which I have long sought to inter.

I documented recently that I am a High School dropout, a fact I’ve been rather proud of lately. I especially enjoy flaunting this when someone bewails the matter of their student loans. I actually have a commenter from the other site to thank for this change in my outlook. Previously I carried my status as an embarrassment to myself, my family, and my country. All of which I blame on The Education System, and I’ll tell you why. Continue reading →

Taxi!

It bothers me when people berate cab drivers. In New York, the city would slam to a stop without these people who sit behind the wheel twelve hours a day and take you where you need to go. Critics say they drive like maniacs, they don’t know where they’re going, they’re always trying to scam passengers, and they don’t want to go to Brooklyn or Queens.

Back in the day, when I was devoid of both driver’s license and car, Butch would wait for me when I got off the commuter rail train in the bowels of Lawrence, Massachusetts. It was not a part of town where a young woman should be alone. Rarely did a cop bother to show up when the train came in. I was often asked if I was “selling” when attempting to cross the bridge over the Merrimack to the desolate downtown, where I could save two dollars on a taxi cab. That’s when I began hopping into Butch’s taxi. Continue reading →

Confessions of a Former Bill Collector

I’ve worn many hats. Often when I’m talking with co-workers I’ll begin to regale the crowd, as I begin to hold court, with tales from one or another of my previous career paths. With the exception of Sack Clerk and Dick Dancer (two very different fields – neither of which required any previous experience) none were as short lived as the time I spent as a Bill Collector. This is the story of Trent Walker, who is NOT a Texas Ranger. I was Trent Walker and he was a Bill Collector.

Continue reading →