It was a Saturday morning and I had just finished watching cartoons. Not because it was a Saturday morning. I was an adult, thank you very much. I watched cartoons whenever I wanted. Mostly on my laptop in the hospital bed. My dad picked me up at the curb in the new van he’d bought. He helped me out of my wheelchair and loaded the chair into the back of the van.

“Hey buddy, it’ll be good to have you back at the house.” “Yeah, they say that I might be able to walk again in a couple of years, so I hope you don’t mind if it’s a short visit.”

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Five years later

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The alarm went off; the song building for about two seconds before I shut it off. I don’t mess around with that shizz. If you let your alarm go off for more than ten seconds than you are not even allowed to have a room next to me – MICHAEL – and if I’m working overnights and your alarm wakes ME up several times than I’m going to remember that for the next eleven years and seven months – MICHAEL -.

I sat up in bed and pulled myself to the edge of the mattress and into my chair. I wheeled myself into the bathroom and pulled myself onto my shower chair. “Blah, blah, blah, we get it, you’re handicapped” I said to myself. “That still isn’t an excuse for eating fudgsicles in the bathtub.”

“Hey now,” I replied to myself, “I’m in the shower not the bathtub. I’m not some TV sitcom wife sipping wine in the tub.” I said while leaning out to take a sip of my shower port. Mmm, fancy. “Besides, I’m eating fudgsicles slightly outside of the bathtub. If I eat them inside the shower they melt. Plus they get a weird tapwatery flavor. Gross.”

“Well, you start a new job today, are you excited?”

“Meh.”

“Is meh an acceptable response? Come on now.”

“I know that the old job was so much better than I am really capable of. Honestly, I’m just scared. What if I just don’t like working? What if I’m just not the kind of person who can allow myself to even be satisfied? Like, I’m always pretty ok with a job during the first few months, but that’s because I’m scrambling to survive. Am I addicted to the struggle for survival and it’s impossible for me to live a normal life? Maybe I’m going to just always be in a cycle of going back and forth between having a solid but uninspiring job that I look down on because it doesn’t feel meaningful and trying desperately to keep my head above water in some new job that only feels meaningful because for a few moments I can’t see above my struggle enough to notice that, nope, meaning isn’t here either.”

“You should have gone with ‘for a few fleeting moments’, you missed a golden opportunity to be pretentiously poetic.”

“Ha, but seriously, maybe I’m just a drama addict. That would suck so much to learn about myself.”

“Or maybe you’re an applause addict. You know, maybe you just aren’t made to punch in and go unnoticed every day.” “Not being able to go unnoticed sounds suspiciously like a drama addict.”

“Ok, that’s a pretty good point me.”

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door. “Zach, it’s you dad. Your first day of work is today. I just wanted to make sure that you’re getting ready.” “Yup yup, thanks dad. I’ll be ready soon.”

A few minutes later (and by a few, I mean fifteen more minutes of glorious, glorious hot water) I finished my ablutions. “Good word use me.” “Thanks me!.” I jumped van lifted into the big white Dodge utility van.

Dad smiled, patted my shoulder, and drove me to the first day of the rest of my life. “Well, the first day of the next two years or so before I get bored and start monologuing about struggle and meaning or something and leave for another new rest of my life.”

We pulled up to the car lot where I’d be starting work today. Dad helped me out of the van and once I was settled, he gave me a hug. “I’m really proud of you son. Thanks for working hard. I know it isn’t easy for you with the physical stuff. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you having a good attitude and being willing to work even when it isn’t easy for you. I’m proud of you. I love you buddy.”

I hugged dad, told him that I loved him, and then took a deep breath, steeled myself and wheeled around to face my nemesis.

“Hello Truck-San, we meet again.”