In 2013, I was formally diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome.
Just months before my diagnosis, I applied for several jobs – all at once.
For about a day and a half, I had three jobs. THREE jobs. (I was hired at three different places, but didn’t work all three jobs in that day and half.) I was pretty excited!
Before I was able to work as much as I was hoping I would get to, I had to quit two of the jobs.
I felt like I had the whole world on my shoulders, having been hired at so many different places.
I was newly pregnant with my son Isaac. ( I’m going to stop calling my babies by their blog nicknames. I just don’t think it matters anymore. :-p )
The job that I chose to try to keep was at a Subway. If offered the same job today, I would quickly run away.
Subway requires a massive amount of multi-tasking and an ability to process information at quick speeds. Neither of which am I capable of doing.
Any way, yada yada… in 2014, while pregnant with my daughter, Juliet, I had a data entry job at an insurance agency. Contracted position.
If I could give 2014-Stephanie some advice, I’d tell her… “don’t talk to your co-workers.” … “sit at lunch, alone.” … “just do your d-mn work.”… and … “emotionally prepare for Chloe’s adoption anniversary in October.”
So, it’s 2016… and I can very readily admit which jobs (and housing situations) I can handle and which ones I should run away from – faster than …whatever’s really-really fast.
I’d describe my current situation as OK. It’s not a long-term solution for homelessness and unemployment, but I’m OK.
I think it’s been a little over a month since I’ve seen Daphne. I think my friends would agree that I’ve done the best I can do to be apart of her life. And that’s all I can really say, right now.