It has been a long, strange week. I have been messed up by days - not knowing what day it was, feeling disoriented by the weather, time of day...I don't know why that happens sometimes.
After all of that, I had one last hurdle to cross...Interpreters at Professional Happy Hour.
Backstory: We have Interpreters at Professional Happy Hour in our state and I had made a request/suggestion that, even though we call it "Happy Hour" (which does carry the implication of alcohol or meeting in a bar/pub/restaurant with a happy hour), our organization should consider some alternate locations occasionally. Over the past couple of years since we have had this activity, I have had several conversations with folks who choose not to go to bars, feel uncomfortable in bars or do not go as a form of self-care, but who are interested in getting together with other interpreters. The organization agreed and set a place - I felt like it was important that I go and support this effort and the willingness of the group to act on my request.
As I was leaving (so I would get there when people were there), I got a call from a colleague and I wasn't able to leave for another hour. Driving out of the parking structure, I find that that the freeway is stopped for a couple of miles due to a bridge lift. It is stormy, Friday afternoon. I don't want to sit in traffic for an hour. So I took the long way around. Took me a while to get to the location, to drive around and find parking. I saw one car I knew on my first pass, but by the time I was parked, the car had gone - it was 7pm, after all, Happy Hour was mostly over. I decided I would walk by and see if I knew anyone there. One of the interpreters recognized me or I would never have gone in.
Two and a half hours later, I left the gathering. I had a good time and *again* lost track of time.
I never understand why I sometimes develop such anxiety over these things - I ALWAYS have a good time. I guess I'm starting to un-Flinch. :)