Movin' on up...

Ok, so I think I've decided that I want to move. Not that I haven't enjoyed living in a matchbox, but I think it's time for me to get some space. And an apartment with washer and dryer connections, because frankly, I'm getting tired of those late night runs to the laundromat. Because that sucks.

The one part of my job that I loathe above all others is feeding. I can handle wiping ass, cleaning vomit, anything under that description, but it's feeding people who cannot feed themselves. It tears me up. There's this one guy who is mostly blind, and he'll stab at the air and quickly shove his spoon in his mouth, chew, and swallow. It's pitiful. I don't have the heart for that, but for some reason, I get stuck in the dining room every morning for breakfast. Blah.

At my previous employer, the night shift didn't have meals. The day shift had breakfast and lunch and evenings had dinner. We passed ice and wiped ass. It was a good life. But I'm making so much more money here, I suppose I shouldn't complain.

I have biiiiiig plans this weekend, the most daunting being the remodling of my bathroom. I hope to replace the hideous wallpaper, prime and paint the walls, and scrub the shower with SOS pads and bleach. If I don't get a buzz from this whole affair, I'm going to be very upset.

Samantha thought she knew someone who could take the cats- her neighbor, whose dog was killed yesterday when he met the business end of a ...well, a car or truck or something. She said she'd try to get a hold of them today so she can let me know, but apparently, they're taking this "dog mourning day" and aren't leaving the house or answering the phone. The kids even got to stay home from school! Craziness.

SO- I might have to wait until later this weekend. S'all good.

I'm going to have the Aqua Teens "rock" me to sleep tonight.

Cherio.