I had my usual Tuesday therapy, and it went well. Then I went for the volunteering interview at NAMI. I guess that went well, too. I actually agreed to start tomorrow morning at 10 am. I'm not too thrilled about what she's starting me with, but she emphasized that it's the first step to learning the ropes. I was firm about not doing Helpline.

My only major complaint about the atmosphere at that local NAMI is that it's like a rat race there. Or rush hour traffic in Times Square. Everybody is interrupting all of the time, and running around yapping at each other. I confess that it's a little overwhelming. I like being around people, but not in a rat race. And when I arrived, I did remember the Operations Director that interviewed me, but she made it seem like she knew me forever and must have hugged me at least three times. She brought me around the office practically yelling in excitement, "Look who's here! You remember BirdDancer!"

"Oh yes, of course I do. Welcome back!", they yelled back with enthusiasm.

And of course I didn't remember anybody's name beyond the Operations Director's, and only recognized one of the other people's faces, but not name. When the Operations Director walked out of the room one of the maybe 10 times, I quickly wrote people's names down so I wouldn't forget them. I hadn't even worked as a volunteer there more than a few weeks way back when. It's not like a was a 20 year employee, or the like. It's possible they were just putting on a show to make me feel welcomed back. Or, OMG, what if they truly remembered me so well? I guess I'm kind of memorable

To add to it, one of the volunteers sort of snapped at the Director saying she wouldn't show me around. Then maybe 20 minutes later she came into the room where the Director and I were and apologized, looking directly at me. AWKWARD!!!! I had to very gingerly find a way of half thanking her for her gesture and telling her she needn't have apologized.

We'll see how it goes. The drive is a bit hectic, too, as I expected. I have a bottle of Ativan at the ready, in my pocketbook.