I Just Love Driving In Circles For Four Hours


I am home! Bearing gifts of honey chicken and pho Thai from my favorite restaurant Viet Thai (on Sand Lake Rd, Orlando. Go. Go. Give them love). But I only made it home after driving in circles around Disney World and Celebration trying to get paperwork together and in the proper places.

FMLA. Family Medical Leave Act. I broached the subject of my trouble with social environments and work specifically and the Dok-Tore (yeah, it is official now) said I needed to look into FMLA.

“Okay, where do I get that?” I asked David after leaving the Dok-Tore.

“HR, in the building-that-can’t-be-touched.”

Casting it is.

Casting is the magical wondrous building that greets any and all new or prospective and ever hopeful cast members. You go there to be interviewed, transfers, hourly transfers (full time to part time) and the like.

But… Human Resources was not located in Casting. It is actually next door. In the bank.

The Bank? O.o

The Bank.

I went to HR or “employee relations” on the fourth floor. This set up was just… Woah.
Outside every door was a phone that you would pick up, tell them why you were there, then wait on hold while they see if they want/can/will help you.

I was redirected to the second floor to the leave blah blah blah office. It is a mouthful I couldn’t remember past my nervousness.

So I go down there. Rinse and repeat.

“I was uh, I was told to come here by HR upstairs after my Doctor said I needed to come here to uh… Is this where I get FMLA paperwork?”

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

Okie. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand…

I waited for a solid five to ten minutes outside this door waiting for someone to let me in.

This is apparently where the “can’t be touched” part came in.

You do not go in. You do not touch the door. And they will be watching.

Camera staring down at you on the other side of the glass. Even the camera got in.

So when she finally comes out she has a single print out in her hands with a post it on top.

“You can print this out you know.”

“I know, but I do not have a computer let alone printer.”

“Or at Cast Services”

“I am at Animation. We don’t have one.”

There is one just down the road at Pop but you had already had me waiting ten minutes and given me a good run around. Print out three sheets of paper.

Then she started asking personal questions.

In the middle of the hallway.

Have you been on medical leave in the last year?

Part time or full time?

How many hours do you work a week?

Why are applying for FMLA?

Will your doctor be charging you to file this?

I had started to quickly break down as she was repeatedly “ooh… That is going to be a problem…” “You need to do this if you wanna be approved and you don’t have that.”

Let me apply and get turned down on my own. I already disclosed that this was the direction of my psychiatrist.

That should scream fragile fragile mind.
Fragile: handle with care.

Bull in a China shop anyone?

I eventually got the three frackin’ pages and drove back to the Dok-Tore’s office after giving David a call ahead.

Arrived handed it over and he warned me of a couple things.

– It won’t be filled and faxed until Friday as that is when Dok-Tore has time for paperwork.

– HR was infamous for claiming that they hadn’t received the faxes even after up to five attempts.

I think I may know why on that.

On one of the sheets is a (714) number the HR cast member pointed out for faxing.

“Now this is a 714 number by way of California. But it faxes to both places. California and here.”

I told David about that.

“No one has ever told me that. No, it is a 407 number.”

“It is on one of the pages towards the bottom of the blocking, David,” I said gesturing.

“Would you look at that.”

“Try both?”

Eventually he said he just call me Friday and if it gave him any trouble I expressed to please call me and I will pick it up and deliver them personally.

Left the office, picked up the food and got home. Driving since 7 AM, testing/follow up 8 AM – 11 AM them driving everywhere from 11 AM  til two in the afternoon.

Oh, the Dok-Tore also decided to up my Seroquel dosage to 200 mg a night and prescribed a 50 mg tablets of Trazodone.

Scary scary Trazodone. My sister Nancy strongly warned against this particular medication but the Dok-Tore said not to be wary.

He really liked Trazodone for its nonaddictive, non-habit forming qualities.

“Just take half a tablet at night for a week, give it a week. And if anything weird happens – stomach ache, nausea, those twitches – call us immediately not the next morning.”

Might as well try.

And those 750 questions apparently only confirmed signs of my severe depression and social anxiety. The Dok-Tore said we were going to focus on the depression and bipolar disorder.

So… I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow?

This post was drafted from mobile device and is more than likely riddled with typos and grammatical errors. Please forgive and forget folks. If it is not too much of a bother, that is.


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