The Adventures of a Reluctant Analyst: Off Roading


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I merged onto the freeway, cautiously looking to make sure the coast was clear. The Green car--looks like the one I'm supposed to follow. I was dodging in and out of cars noting their color and license plates. The Green car exited and I followed. As soon as I reached a close enough range, I saw that it was a Mazda Protégé; I swore I knew who the driver was and I cursed under my breath. Like I would actually follow this guy and betray my own state! I went to turn around and a semi-truck drove by hauling AIRHEADS. I laughed and continued on home to Indiana. My phone was ringing back to back to back from people wanting to know where I was (I had a message that I was suspended for three days), my phone was malfunctioning, and the radio was talking to me. I had to get home.

It was like I was in A Beautiful Mind with Russell Crowe. Am I going crazy or were these temp job folks just messing with me? Tough call.

I went to the police with a notebook of License plate numbers and colors associated with them. Surely, this must mean something. I mean, my family has a history of schizophrenia and paranoia, and a slew of other issues, but this has to be real...

The police! Oh, the Police could help! I flagged an officer down and was full of hope! Then I saw it, orange. A Bengals bag. Player. I couldn't get in that police car. He wasn't a real officer; he was playing along with the guys. The radio AND the police? Oh my God, I can't trust anybody! Mom was at the hospital and I needed to go see her. I was terrified because the lines between reality and fantasy were blurred and I did not know what to do next.

Another officer came and took me to the hospital where they admitted me. Admitted me! Can you believe it? At the hospital, my mom came to my side, placed her hand behind my head and moved my head to nod for the questions asked by the nurses. Oh mom.

People kept walking by. The same family. Over and over again. They're simulating an acid trip! Ha! These people have no idea what an Acid Trip is like if this is what they're trying to do!

Have you done any drugs? No.

When was the last time you did drugs? Christmas Eve.

What did you take? Aspirin.


The nurse rolled her eyes at me. Keep on keepin' on, sweetie. Nothin' to see here.

I learned a lesson here. Be cooperative with the nurses. They said I needed a psych evaluation. I was paraded through the center of the hospital and through the cafeteria. Mom was furious, but I told her it was necessary to make me stronger. I held my head high the whole time; I pretended I was on my way to give a speech as President.

The door was only accessible from one side. Instead of being in the Russell Crowe movie, I now felt like I was in Jack Nicholson's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. The guy that looked me over told me to quickly sign some papers so I could get out of there. He didn't slow down so I could read them. He was wearing plastic glasses that looked like something out of a cartoon. Oh my &*^(%)& God! Even the psych ward is messing with me?! Fine. I'll play. I'll call your bluff.

Big mistake. I didn't sign the paperwork. I was held on a 'court order' (never did see that document) and had to stay for five days. No phone. No email. No nothing. The voices were quiet.

What in the hell is going on?!


To be continued...
The Adventures of a Reluctant Analyst: Off Roading The Adventures of a Reluctant Analyst: Off Roading Reviewed by Jessica Hillyer on 11:20:00 AM Rating: 5

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