Greetings, everyone! Wow, just like that we’ve reached the
end of 2015; half the decade has passed! Hope you and your family have enjoyed
this year~
February the 3rd tends to be a very sad day for
me, simply because the cruel and unfaithful God so wantonly destroyed my life
with the disabling brain tumour and subsequent stroke on that very same day,
back in 2007. This year, on that day, I had an appointment to see my disability
employment advisor. She was very perceptive, and after a few minutes in her
presence, said. “You’re not your usual bright bubbly self. What’s wrong?” When
I told her the real reason for me seeming down, her eyes widened in surprise. “Ooh,
but today I’ve found you a job! Can you just put on a really good act and
pretend nothing’s the matter?”
For a paid job, definitely! True, I became a telemarketer
for only one month, and goodness knows everyone verbally abuses telemarketers
like crazy, but it was a job I could complete sitting down and it got me a
little pay (albeit a supported wage) so I was more than happy to be finally off
the unemployment queue and rejoin in contributing to society! There were three
especially memorable calls: the first one, the phone was picked up by a very
little girl; I could tell by how high-pitched her squeaky little voice was, and
adjusted my voice accordingly. “Hello, sweetie, is your mummy at home? May I
please talk to her?” The little girl squeaked yes and called for her mummy;
when her mother’s gruff, snappish “Yes?” came on over the phone, I launched
into my pre-rehearsed speech, and just like that, she hung up on me! Lol,
shutdown! XD
The second memorable call I got was to this old lady. Once
I’d delivered my opening two lines, she screeched at me, “Slow down! I can’t
hear what you’re saying!”
Well, fair enough. I’m aware that I talk quite rapidly, and
over the phone to some stranger I was probably rather nervous and quite
possibly going faster than a mile a minute, so I consciously slowed down my
pace and continued. Two more lines later, she screeched at me again, “Hello! I
still can’t hear you! Slow down!”
Was this lady perhaps hard of hearing? I’d already slowed
down once to her! But hey, perhaps she really was old and slightly deaf, so
again I talked even slower, continuing on with my speech. But that was to no
avail, because for a third time, this cranky lady screeched at me, “Whatever
are you saying?? I can’t hear you at all; slow down!”
Fine, enough was enough. I deliberately spoke every single
word exceedingly slowly, leaving a long pause in between each word. “Ma’am …
what … we … are …. offering … you … is …” *duut duut duut* Ok, so fair enough,
this time I probably deserved to be hung up on, but in my defence, she was a
bitch first! XD
My last memorable call was to this man of Indian descent.
You know how when telemarketers ring you, they’re often Indian and you have no
idea what they’re uttering to you? Well, this time, I think this Indian man was
telling me about his solar hot water system, only I couldn’t make hide nor hair
of what he was saying! I was thinking, dude, I’m the telemarketer here; you
should be having trouble understanding me, but why can’t I understand you?? XD
In times past, my dearest dad has taken mother, our
relatives/friends who are visiting from Hong Kong and I down
to Byron Bay,
where we all walk down the cliffs to the most easterly point in Australia.
Obviously, what with the cruel and unfaithful God so wantonly destroying my
life back in 2007, I haven’t been in any physical condition to make that trek
down to the lighthouse. However, that Easter long weekend, when we arrive
there, I see that a protective barrier has been built all the way around it,
and decide that I’m gonna make it all the way down myself! Mother’s very
sceptical. “Are you sure, Em?” she asks me. “Because even if you make it all
the way down there, remember you’ve gotta climb all the way back up, too! I’d
hate for you to collapse before you reached the top, because then your father
and I would haveta call for the air rescue flight helicopter to come and save you,
and then we’d feature for sure on all those television shows as the ‘stupid Asians’
that always get targeted!”
I laugh, assure mother that I will definitely be alright,
and really do make it down all the way to the most easterly point in Australia!
However, there’s the long haul back up that must be conquered next.
Nowadays, I must wear a boot over my left calf and ankle if
I am to walk at all, because my demented left foot inverts (twists out) with
every step I take. True, even when wearing the boot, my foot still inverts, but
before it can go all the way it crashes against the side of the boot, which
stops it from rolling all the way out. However, if I walk longer or further
than usual, with my foot twisting out and crashing against the boot with every
step, my ankle will start to hurt quite badly after awhile.
So here I am, hauling myself up step after each wide step
(you can’t just ascend one step then another; you’ve gotta get over one and
walk a few more steps forward before reaching the next one), my idiot ankle’s
wailing with pain, when suddenly a man, a SHIRTLESS man, appears to us! “Would
you like me to carry your daughter back up to the top of the mountain for you?”
he asks mother. My saviour! I’m about to throw myself at this shirtless man and
scream, “YES!” when my awful mother just snaps at him, “No. She’s training.”
“Are you sure?” the man double checks. This time it’s my dad
who responds firmly, “Yes.”
So the man bids us all a happy Easter and goes on his way.
Me, I’m stunned. I haul myself back up to our car and collapse into the seat
before I finally regather my voice. “You just RUINED my Easter!” I screeched at
mother. “Never again will I have a man – a SHIRTLESS man – offer to carry me up
a MOUNTAIN! It’s all YOUR FAULT!”
Nowadays, every Saturday morning, when mother has gone to
work, I have a carer come at 10am to
help me out of bed. I tell my carer this tale when she comes the Saturday after
Easter, and the following Saturday, when she comes back, she tells me she
dreamt about my shirtless man at my front door!
“Ooh, tell me about him!” I ask her. “Mother says he looked
really old and frail, so that’s why she wouldn’t let him carry me up the
mountain.” (Mother’s an RN; she could’ve treated the man if he’d collapsed
after carrying me up the mountain, but he’d have carried me up first, got it??
XD)
“Oh, no, he was really tall, dark and handsome!” my carer
replies.
“Why was he here?” I asked her.
“He was looking for you.”
“Please tell me you let him in!”
My carer laughs. “What was the point of that, Emily? You’re
not on a mountain anymore, so I just told him no, he didn’t have an appointment
and closed the door on him.”
I screech at my carer, “What?? He could’ve at least carried
me up the stairs! Sure, we’re not on a mountain anymore, but he could’ve just
carried me up something! Oh gosh, Besta, you’re just like my mother: you ruined
my Easter, and I’ll never forgive you!!” XD
Oh, one more quick story for 2015: I saw the Minions movie
in GOLD CLASS! Recliner armchairs, baby! My
only regret was that cartoons are only like ninety minutes long: one day, I’m
gonna find a movie the Lord of the Rings length and see that in gold class!
Now, wouldn’t that be luxury!!
Anyways, wishing you and your family a very merry Christmas
and a safe and prosperous 2016~ All the best for whatever plans and adventures
you have planned, and hopefully we can stay in touch next year; thank goodness
for Facebook, eh? ;)
Cheers,
Em. ^^
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