I am special.

I attended a training for my day job yesterday. It started at 0730. Why? Because I work at a hospital and apparently healthcare is only learn-able between the hours of 0730 and 1600. (That would be 4pm for you sane people out there.)

I am not a morning person. Now wait, let me be more specific. I was once a morning person before my mornings began at the butt crack of dawn. Thankfully, opposites attract and my husband, who actually CHOOSES to start his day at the Sacrum of Dawn – which is even earlier than the butt crack, offered to drive me to work.

I suppose I should also mention my disability here. I suffer from car-polepsy. Its like narcolepsy but in cars. As long as I am driving I am fine. But put me in the passenger seat and suddenly lottery officials are printing out tickets for Power Snore in which the winner picks the number of seconds it takes for me to fall asleep. This may be anywhere from minutes to well, minutes.

So, on the drive yesterday I was asleep within the first stop sign. We have several large intersections between our house and the interstate and it was at the last one that I woke. I bravely peeked out of my half opened eyes. Sitting next to me was a van. Not just any van but a maroon van of exact make and model as the one I have proudly driven since the days of Girl Scout field trips. I began wondering why my van was driving itself to work. I then noticed that the woman driver was smoking. There is no smoking in my van. She began to fidget nervously, presumably from my staring. I wonder if she has seen me staring because now I think I might know her. No, she is taller than the woman I am thinking of, but her hair looks the same and…oh crap, now she is looking at me…

I throw myself back into the seat of my husband’s car and take a long nonchalant drink from my go-cup and promptly burn the entire first layer of tissue off the roof of my mouth.  Man, that cup really holds in the heat. As he begins to accelerate through the green light he asks why I am panting and in a cold sweat. I recite my previous thought process ending with my biggest thought. “Do other people have these thoughts?”

“No,” he assures me. “No they do not. No one else I know thinks like you.”

Well. Guess that makes me special...and still pretty sleepy.

(This is a re-do of a previous post a year ago on my old website. As I am at a conference on trauma again today, I will be well prepared to deal with the burn injury I am sure to sustain next time I am forced to get up at this ridiculous hour.)