Where's Your Mind At

Isn't perception everything?  Back in the 1980's I was working as an Administrative Assistant in the office of Disabled Student Services at The University of Wisconsin Whitewater.  The Director at the time was an incredible human being.  He cared very much for the students he served and endeavored to assist individuals in becoming as independent as possible.  He was also a prolific writer.  Transcribing his musings sometimes could only be described as pure joy.  As an example one time he was writing a member of Congress because the Post Office in Whitewater was housed in a building that was an Historic Marker and could not be adapted for use by people with mobility limitations.  So in this letter he wrote "can't we give people with disabilities franking privilege?  Congress has them and we all know how disabled they are!"  I laughed all morning at that one.  Anyway, back to the original story.  Let me set the stage for you.  I was just newly into the workforce after attending a government sponsored program where I took 23 credits in 2 semesters and got a diploma (3.4 GPA).  Prior to enrolling in the training program I had been attending the university full time while trying to raise three children as a single parent, nursing an alcohol addiction and fighting an ugly custody battle.  My life was unraveling, but even more painful to watch was the hurt that this living situation was causing for my children.  I made the hardest decision that I have ever had to make in my life and that was to end the custody battle and relinquish my children to their father and his new wife. (I will write about this in another posting)  So, I went into treatment and quit drinking, got my diploma and got employment.  I had very little money and the schoolgirl's wardrobe that I had consisted of blue jeans and sweat suits.  Not suitable for the position of Office Administrative Assistant.  So off I went to the second hand shop and purchased 4 skirts and 5 sweaters and one strand of pretty opalescent yellow beads.  I had spent a walloping $11.50 (the fifty cents was over my budget and was for the strand of beads.) and was ready to work.  One of the first projects that I needed to tackle was setting up a resource room that was a joint venture of The Division of Vocational Rehabilitation and the University.  I had to order everything from the carpeting on the floor to the pencils in the drawer.  Per State requirement anything under $75 had to be ordered on a quick order done in triplicate.  One of the major components of this resource room was reading literature.  Magazines to be exact. My mission was to stock the resource room with information regarding many different areas of living with a disability.  The University was big on sport participation of its disabled student body so I was expressly charged with finding the latest and greatest sources of information regarding base BALL, basket BALL, foot BALL, golf, bowling etc.  One morning as I was plodding through assembling my 60 or so quick orders regarding disabled sports, the Director strolled into my office in his impeccable Armani suit, smelling of expensive European cologne announcing "Life is a team sport!", without thinking I replied "If you got the balls for it!" (I should tell you that I really believe that he was a closet chauvinist) As quickly as that fell off my lips I heard a loud sucking noise from him that took every ounce of air out of the room and in panic I looked at him and said "oh shit I killed the boss, this will not look good on my resume"  I said, " you know, bowling BALLS, golf BALLS"  When he finally regained his composure he said "we should make a T-shirt with that on it" we never did.