July 8th, 2013
- mustard yellow cardigan, Zappos. 2011.
- blue & teal scarf, vintage. 1999.
- jeans, Old Navy, 2013.
- black v-neck shirt, Target. borrowed. 2012.
- Grey converse, Zappos. 2008.
in/out: Social Security office
assessment: I had no idea what to expect from my visit to the Social Security office — before going, I was terribly worried that they’d tell me I didn’t look enough like my ID photos and that I’d get arrested for identity theft or something — so I tried my best to wear something that looked harmless — grandpa cardigan to the rescue! — but also wouldn’t be too hot to wear while I walked downtown.
I decided not to bring my cane because I’m an idiot, and I regretted it instantly when I got to the jam-packed office and heard that there was a two hour wait — I can’t stand for that long, and while I limp and walk with an uneven gait when I’m in pain, without my cane, I don’t have any exterior markers of disability. I snagged a seat after signing in and watched as more and more folks came into the office & had to stand instead of sitting.
This is such new territory for me. I felt like a fraud, as though experiencing this kind of pain a moral failing that I chose to indulge in, that needing this kind of assistance means I am taking up too much space.
Do I sit and have people who also need seats glare at me because I don’t look like I need to sit? Do I say something to these folks? Will they believe me?
Or do I give up the seat to other people who want it and attempt to be stoic and grit through the pain?
Normally I would have solved this dilemma by splitting the difference and sitting on the floor, but the very intense security guard was insistent that no one could do that — or eat, or talk on cell phones, or do anything besides sit on chairs or stand in silence for hours.
In the end I stayed seated and it didn’t seem to be a problem for anyone, though I was waiting for it to become one and felt horribly guilty the entire time I waited. It’s astonishing to me to uncover the amount of guilt I am carrying around about the idea of saying I need this and I can’t do that.
Also: I wish it was possible to find more clothing items in this particular shade of mustard yellow.
butch/femme: professor dapper femme.