It was on the previous day that Lambert discovered two things: people are rarely honest, and, when they are, people are usually disappointed.

On the current day, Lambert discovered that kindness is a sort of tonic for the ailment of perception.

She woke up late; well, late, in the sense that other people had been up since 7, and she had gotten up at 11:30. She woke up feeling some of the night before's hesitation. Actually, she woke up generally feeling a lack of confidence, though, without the source from the former day.

She almost considered not getting assessed. She considered staying inside all day. It wasn't a fear; no, no fear of the outdoors, or buses. It was more an absence of hope. She was sure that whoever assessed her would contradict the doctor's findings, and jeopardize her chances of being financed.

The whole deal ended up being somewhat more complicated than expected: the people she was sent to no longer handled Disability paperwork. They sent her down the street.

Along the way, she stopped at the sewing machine store; it doubled as a vacuum cleaner dealership. She was attended to right away, but nothing she was shown really caught her interest: either the price was too high, or the machine too weak to handle denim. Seeing as she had spotted a brand-new Brother machine online for $165, she wasn't exactly impressed to be introduced to $200-500 used (and much less durable-appearing) goods at this store. All the same, she related her anecdote about Pi's crotch-blown pairs of pants. Lambert could tell that the Mistress of the Overpriced Machines had clearly never thought of stitching jeans back together with fishing wire before. The lady was amused, at least.

Lambert decided to try elsewhere for a machine, later scheming softly about enlisting the aid of her brother's Paypal account, or her mother's credit card, to get the Brother she'd seen a week earlier.

Heading to this other place of assessment, Lambert wandered the building a little. She'd missed the sign detailing the room locations. She did, at last, get up the balls to bother the guy behind the desk. He called someone else in the building, and asked her to wait. She stared at the three paintings in the room. Upon asking, she was told that most in the building were created by locals. All of the paintings in sight were of natural things: animals, hunters, and plants. One were semi-abstract, one was slightly blurry, and the third was intensely detailed. The third was of the hunter.

The building was intended as a reach-out to Natives; being that she was so barely Native, she had a worry that they would turn her away. Her concern was unfounded.

A woman came down. She introduced herself as Cheri; Lambert admired her shirt. It was much like the sort she usually bought herself.

They talked for a while. Cheri was friendly, almost so soft-spoken that she seemed to exuded a kind of calmness. They talked of many things, some random, but, most focused on the paperwork at hand. She herself was no longer qualified to do them, but she knew of someone who could. This person, a surnameless Jennifer, was called. Lambert and Jennifer's numbers were exchanged via Cheri.

The papers were photocopied. Cheri was impressed by Doctor Y's report of Lambert's state. She said something to the effect of, "This is strong," in regards to his input. Her eyebrows even launched into her forehead during her reading of the doctor's comments. Lambert was equally impressed, mostly by her reaction; earlier, she had been told by a former caseworker that the application was weak, and that Lambert's portion would be what carried the thing. But now, Lambert had confidence in this venture. Besides, even if it failed, she had 20 days upon receipt of rejection to contest the verdict of the government. Cheri offered her services, and requested that Lambert tell her about the outcome.

The day took on an extension of good luck: she didn't have to wait very long for the bus she'd wanted to get on. She thought that she'd have to wait 10 minutes after a similar-destined bus was headed, but, no, it came before.

The sewing machine would have to wait; she resolved to phone her multi-talented aunt, to ask about supplies. Her aunt was in the business of bookkeeping, DJing, tailoring, and many other interesting things. Lambert hoped that this relative would be able to provide a source for the paper cutter, and more-affordable sewing machine. If all else failed, Lambert had a feeling that her aunt may have a machine around that she could buy off her.

She would have to wait a few hours before contacting her aunt. Until then, she had time to relax, and eat dinner.

All in all, Lambert concluded that the day had been worth being around for. Her worries of being worthless, while not totally alleviated, were certainly dampened for the time being.