14
My plan was to remain in bed until the world ended, or until Cheryl called back or came over and forced me out of my bed. If that didn’t happen, I would wait until the girls called 911 to take me to a psychiatric hospital where I would spend the rest of my life.
But on Monday morning, Adam called, yelling at me that I was late for work. What a familiar refrain. Then my mother called, saying how she was proud of me, of my plans for the future, of the person I was. If only she knew. But it was the hospital’s call that finally forced me get up. I had been chosen for the position of Patient Care Technician, and they wanted me to go there that afternoon to sign the contract.
Finally something good in my life. Perhaps it was a sign that not everything was lost, and I shouldn’t let the craz
