November 27th, 2006

When the wheels are spinning round and the ground is frozen through

It's always funny when it snows in Seattle.

Except when you've become dependent on the busses, which just stop running.

For just under two hours, we all huddled in the bus shelter, watching numerous busses pass us in the wrong direction. I saw the hooligan youth of Kirkland throw snowballs at cars, one of which was so upset it circled twice to yell at them about it. The battery in my mp3 player died, cutting me off from further traffic updates. Finally a Sound Transit bus came to our stop and the driver pronounced that as far as he knew, he was it for Seattle-bound busses tonight.

Good enough for me. The fact that route 540 only gets me to the University district seemed to pale in comparison with having to go spend the night at the office.

The U district brought about another half hour of standing in the cold, with a new group of fellow sufferers all waiting for the mythical 71X which would take us downtown without delay. In the end I settled for the 70 local, which made a lot of stops and left me about ten blocks from home. I walked the extra block to the 5 Point for a pot of tea and a hot turkey open-face sandwich.

I suspect I'm not going into work tomorrow. Oddly enough, this will cause me to miss the meeting where we continue to lobby for an office in Seattle instead of the Eastside.

You know me, and I sure know you

A friend of mine, upon hearing that I'd finished DBT, asked if I thought she'd benefit from it. This wasn't something we thought we had in common until we got to know each other beyond superficially; it makes for an awkward sort of bond. Birds of a feather and all that.

I said yes, that despite being extremely high-functional, she would probably get a lot out of the experience. If nothing else, getting to feel good about seeing how the low-functional population lurches through life. That isn't to say that the skills I picked up weren't excellent; most of the class was something that I think most people could benefit from learning. But I can't deny feeling good about the fact that I was one of the few with regular employment, keeping my own household, and generally maintaining.

I don't know if she'll do it or not. As the NIH once said "in the high-functioning population, the disorder surfaces predominantly in the primary relationship". Hold down a good professional career, keep the rent paid on time, and you'll get by well below the radar. She's managed to keep a better cover on things than I did, but I like to think I had some extenuating circumstances. Sometimes failure is what forces change.