What I need now is for somebody to go get me about a dozen bottles and mail 'em to the depths of Texas. Any takers?
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The cats, driven by Frog only knows what evil instinct, tore down two wall shelves in the office today and knocked a whole bunch of decorated Chinese take-out boxes all over the place. I showed them: I replaced the boxes on a new shelf, way up over the south windows. The boys stare and chirp and whine, but they can't climb seven feet up a bare wall.
All that means, of course, that the office/guest room/magic store is a freaking mess. And it has to get clean before I lose my mind. So I'm glad I'm awake at 3:30.
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Prayers would be gratefully accepted in the matter of my moving to day shift. It's not that I mind working nights; I feel fine after about 10 pm. It's that I can't do a damned thing but sleep on my days off. I've emailed the boss; we'll see what he says today. If anything.
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This damn knee is driving me crazy. I can't manage anything better than a moderate walk for about ten minutes before it starts to hurt, so working out at my usual balls-to-the-wall level is out of the question.
As a result, I'm grouchy, acne-ridden, and feeling pasty and bloated. If you'd told me ten years ago, or even five, that I would be grouchier *not* working out than doing it, I'd've laughed in your face. Now, all I want to do is sit on the couch, stare into the middle distance, and curse jumping jacks.
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Two more HSV patients and another person who needs isolation because of bacterial meningitis means we simply do not have enough cobbled-together isolation rooms. This week (I'm working six days out of seven, thanks to a schedule malfunction) will be a real hoot.
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Max just came in to communicate, through lip-flips and growls, that my popovers are done heating up. Time to melt some butter. And clean the office.
Good night, Joe Slobotnik, wherever you are.
8 comments:
I so feel your pain on the randomness of sleep working the night shift. I am working 3 12-hour night shifts and also trying to teach a clinical 2-10:30pm on Thurs and Fri evenings. My body has no idea what to do right now. And in about 4 hours I have to go proctor an exam because that apparently is part of becoming an adjunct faculty member. So many things they forgot to tell me in that "you're hired when can you start" meeting I had before I started the position. I am looking forward to this summer only working one job--HOPEFULLY! so that I can establish some sort of a routine.
Ack! Could some of the HSV patients room in together to save resources?
Last night when I got in the youngest cat ran straight up the back of my powerchair and sat on my headrest. He's never done that before. Strange animal.
I'm in Ames, IA, just north of Des Moines and I'll be due to run some errands there in another week or so. I'll see what I can do about getting the dressing.
Gretchen, you are da bomb. I notice also that you're a Greyhound person. Huzzah for retired racers! The late lamented Bucky (Aquila Adventure aka Buckminster Fuller) was a fantastic guy, even if his best finish was fourth place. Once.
Yes ma'am, I love my greyhounds! They are pretty much all winners as pets. I'll e-mail you when I find out what's what about the dressing.
Gretchen, you can find the dressing at any Dahl's Grocery Stores. It's the dressing of the gods....
Rat, good to know. Somebody told me it was at Hy-Vee, which it wasn't. At least not at my Hy-Vee!
Oh my! It's been too long since I have heard the names of the midwestern groceries. There was a Hy-Vee on the corner that we used to walk to from my grandmother's house in Urbandale.
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