Part Two: More background about the beginnings

I began to consider retiring at the beginning of 2003.  Everyday had become a lesson in torture as I showered and made myself presentable to meet a new day.  My manager told me I looked disheveled to which I took offense since I was unsure that she knew the meaning of the word and I hurt so badly getting ready that she was probably right.  I would plan my itinerary to arrive in the city where I was teaching or taking a class myself on the evening prior to the class. I would check in at the hotel and go straight to bed when I arrived knowing that unless I rested and controlled the physical stress, I would be unable to teach the next day.  I was doing my best to arrange my schedule so that I could cope. But then the company decided to tighten the purse strings and eliminated that option. They required us to fly the earliest flight on the morning of the class, rent a car, rush through rush hour traffic in an unfamiliar city, set up the class, and teach starting at 8:30 until 5:00. At lunch, I checked out of the hotel, bringing my bags back to the training site. After the class, we were required to clear up the room, wipe down all the tables, sharpen all the pencils and return them to the tables, pack, and go back to the airport. Rushing to return the rental car, ride the shuttle to the airport and catch the flight was excruciatingly painful.  Often times, when going to California or Washington, I had to transfer planes in Dallas.  Inevitably, the connecting flight was on the opposite side of the airport. Running with bags to catch my flight to Houston was exhausting. Dallas is notorious for delays, so even after all that rushing, sometimes I would find myself sitting for hours in those hard plastic chairs waiting for my flight which should have left already.  By the time I arrived in Houston, rode the shuttle to my parking garage, got in my car and drove 30 minutes home...well, let's just say the fibromyalgia pain was at its peak.

Even so, the next morning I was at my desk or at a training site by 7:30 trying to drag myself through another day. Being there by that time required I get up at 5:00 ( I need at least an hour before my muscles will allow me to shower and get ready they are so stiff and painful.) and leave my house by 6:45.  If my class was in northwest Houston, I had to get up at 3:30 or 4:00. Traffic is a bear in Houston.

I simply plodded through the pain and prayed for the weekends.