Tuesday, August 2, 2011

What are you doing?

What a disaster! So much drama!

This morning at 8 AM I employed this excellent system to keep me on track. Excellent until the next BIM gets me into trouble or even worse.

My post-it said "clearing the floor" and my timer ran for 20 minutes. I got distracted at times but kept seeing that sign and that timer and getting back on task. Then I wrote "clearing your work table" and in another 20 minutes of the timer, my sewing room was beautiful.

Next, as I said in my previous post, I decided to blog about my success. Well, the picture I took with my phone would not transmit through bluetooth so I researched Apple posts about said problem and discovered it was not uncommon. I SWAPSed that problem and chose to use the digi camera but the battery was dead. While I was getting the charger, I heard a woman threatening someone outside my window. The woman being threatened said, "I am going to call 911." I HAD TO GET INVOLVED!

I will not stand idly by and allow crimes to be committed on my street. I am a responsible upstanding member of the community and I really do care. I am not joking here. A lot of people do nothing and advise others to do the same because it draws unwanted negativity. I don't want the attention or the focus but I cannot stand by and allow others to be bullied.

So, I open my window to a woman yelling. "Keep it up! I'm going to f@*k you up bitch!" from her car to another woman standing on the sidewalk with her doggie.

I tell the woman in the car (I live on the second floor, like Luka) that I am calling the police and she threatens me too. She says, "I know where you live. I am gonna to come back for you. I'm gonna send my cousin here and you better watch out. It may not be today or tomorrow but you gonna get f@*ked up!"

Well, if that does not bring out my crazy I do not know what will. I grew up in this neighborhood when it was bad. I went to school with this woman (not literally, although I may have). I let kids hit me, kick me, call me names, pull my hair or put gum in it, knock my books down, take my candy, and warn me that I better run home after school or they were going to... I did not fight back. I don't know why. Maybe, because I had my sister to defend me or maybe because I was terrified or maybe because I was tiny. I was so tiny. In sixth grade, I still wore a kid's size 13 shoe. In seventh, my Super Pro Keds were an adult size 1. My bathing suit was a size 6X. I could still fit into the shirt from the shorts set from Sears that my grandmother gave the summer I went with her to live in Puerto Rico three years earlier. Here I am in sixth grade wearing the polyester shirt. 

I have a lot of bottled up anger inside me and there are times when adrenaline takes over and subconsciously, I recognize the opportunity to unleash my rage and I seize it. With a TBI, those emotion are very close to the surface. I know this because when it was over I did a quick emotional cycle, and I realized besides fear, anger, and outrage, I felt exhilarated. I scream back, "BRING IT ON! I can't wait. I am ready for you anytime. You have no idea how crazy I am. Do you want me to come down right now? Let's do this! You picked the wrong bitch to mess with!" I do not even hear her response. I call 911 with the window still open and report that a woman is outside my window threatening to kill me. I knew the dispatcher was not taking the call seriously at all. She asked, "And how did you come to be involved in this incident?" When I tried to give her the license plate number, she said I could give it to the police when they got there. I made her take it down anyway. She took my apartment number down and assured me that the police were on their way.

Well, no patrol car came. Then I hear horrible screaming from the street and a dog barking and the woman saying something about getting the other lady up in that window too. I look out and the bully has come back without her car, bearing a pipe. The other woman ran to the safety of a neighbor's car while her Javanese-mutt blend barked menacingly to protect her. The bully did not see me and I started to feel afraid. I could not believe the police had not come yet. I had tried my local precinct to no avail by then so I call 911 again. The dispatcher tells me a patrol car came by and did not see anyone so they left. WTF! He says he'll send another car. When I go downstairs, I ask my doorman and some neighbors if they know the woman who was threatened or if the police came. My doorman talks to me like I am paranoid and my neighbors refuse to make eye contact. Nobody heard anything.

 When the police arrive, I have to will myself to calm down because the moment I start talking, they roll up the windows and get out of the car and I realize I am the one who is going to get arrested if I do not figure out how to make myself clear. It was useless. They do not understand that by not responding right away, the woman had the opportunity to go park her car, find a pipe (where? in the conservatory?), and come back to attack us. The fact that there were a couple of dozen people on the street who did not seem to even notice anything scares me even more. Kitty Genovese, here we go. I could be murdered in broad daylight in front of several witnesses and no one would do anything. And I am the crazy one? There was a lot of. "Ma'am I am trying to explain to you..." and "If you will just listen, you will understand..." They would not have even written anything down if both the other woman and I had not insisted. They gave me a slip of paper with the blank claim number area circled and all my information on it and told me to call the precinct in 24 to 48 hours to get the claim number. What? Why are they giving me back the information I just gave them? It was not even a duplicate form. They wrote nothing official down just put some stuff on the back of a piece of paper and folded it up. When I asked about this, PO Toro asks me if I am trying to tell her how to do her paper work. "I am going to copy it over. I don't like my reports to be all sloppy." I gave them the license plate number too. I want to put it here in my blog but I guess that might be stepping over the line. At least I have a line somewhere.

Four hours after I came up with an excellent plan, life and my brain injury got in the way. I need a vacation. Fortunately, I have one coming up and from the weather forecast I just read, I may be spending a lot of time indoors blogging.

No comments: