Learning How to Bend

December 1

//Whaaat? It's December, and I'm still writing? Surprise, surprise, this book is nowhere near done, so time to keep rolling onward...//

Thaddeus's doctor came back to my apartment a few days later to take out the stitches.  He was right, my forehead did bruise a good bit, but the black, blue, and brown was starting to fade according to Thaddeus, for which I was very thankful.  I did not care so much about the color—after all, I could not see it anyway—but the tenderness of the area was what I would miss least.  I could barely even touch my skin without pain the first few days.  It eventually went away, though, until it only hurt when I hit it on things, which...unfortunately was often.  I had gotten better in light of the injury and I maybe only ran into things once every three days instead of once every day.  It was a miracle people did not report me in the office building for swearing.

I really was not one to swear, but every so often...a curse word or two seemed to help tolerate the pain.  It was a Tuesday, so I was actually at Andino Incorporated today with Chelise stretched out on her bed against the wall.  I had a meeting scheduled with Thaddeus for this afternoon, like usual.  I pulled a water bottle out of my mini fridge and drank about a third of it before I put it down.  I connected my laptop into its dock and woke up my monitor.  After a couple moments, it pinged its wake-up music, and I typed in my password via the Braille keyboard and sat down at my desk as the computer logged me in.  As soon as that was complete, I got started on my work.

It was a never-ending struggle, trying to finish any task.  Today was the first day for the interns.  I was not responsible for Andino Incorporated's internship program, but I always requested at least one intern for whatever group I was in.  While some people in the company hated "looking after" the students, I appreciated their inputs.  They always offered new perspectives.  Not only that, I wanted to teach them what it was like to work with someone like me.  When the one in my group—a young lady named Julia—met me, she seemed a little hesitant, like she did not know whether she should shake my hand or what to do.  I actually reached forward and took her hand in mine to shake it in greeting before walking with her to the elevator then showing her to her desk.  She was a musician; she had played violin since she was six years old.  I immediately liked her.

After I introduced her to some of our team, I settled her in her desk and left her to the care of her mentors and supervisors.  They would be the ones who assigned her projects; I simply served as support if she needed it or wanted it.  My door may often be closed to my coworkers at times, but I told Julia she could always knock if my door were not open, and I would answer.  I wanted her to like her time here, and I firmly believed in strong first impressions.  Hopefully I had made the right one whenever I welcomed her with a smile and a warmth she may not have expected from a company as large and successful as Andino Incorporated.

Someone else in the marketing department also had an intern, a junior named Colby.  He shook my hand, but his grip was almost pathetically weak, which gave me the impression he was not as confident as his voice sounded.  Someone needed to teach him a proper handshake, but it was not going to be me...or maybe it was.  He held onto my hand a few moments too long.  Before he dropped it, I gave him a lesson in handshakes.  I did not think he particularly liked being lectured by a female, but he listened.  I had him approach me once more and greet me with another shake, at which point he matched the strength of my grip before dropping my hand after two up and down movements of our hands.  Much better.

Interacting with the interns had taken much of my morning.  When I sat back down in my chair, I pulled a granola bar out of my top drawer and practically swallowed it whole.  It was too early for lunch, so the bar would have to do.  When I had part of it stuffed in my mouth, someone stepped into my office and started asking me things.