are we there, yet?

so apparently ya'll have nothing better to do than sleep all these wee hours i'm riding the night shift on the second half of a mighty double sitting for a patient who's roomate shares a fondness for diddling his fiddle [i shit you not. what is it with boys and their junk? especially when they don't feel good. it's as if someone is going to walk away with it? ... excuse me? you need help getting to the bathroom? no problem. just don't touch me with your hands and we'll be fine as pie. ... you're done in there? okay, let's wash your hands. i'm sorry, you need to use soap. ... no, you gotta scrub those puppies. ... yes, i know exactly where your hands have been. now, if you don't mind, please scrub them again or i'm gonna do it for you. .... thank you. let's get you back in bed. ~shudders~].

i promised kimmyk some photos of skinny cows, but i'm at work, so a link is gonna have to cut it.

back to my charge. i know that my patient isn't exactly right in the head, but shitting on the floor? come on!!! i spent my morning handling the 3 year old's peanut to keep him from peeing on his shorts at the park and now i'm spending my night handling a grown [but not much larger...] peanut to keep from having to change the whole bloody bed, again.

gargh.

now don't get me wrong. in my time "on the floor" i have scrubbed me some peanuts, washed me some wieners, handled me some exterior plumbing. i know that in some oysters lie a beautiful pearl or two, but cripes, honey. now i know the ones can't stop handling their junk on the outside of this joint are afraid someone's gonna come take what little they got!

deee-um. gurrrrrl is out.

truth be told, gurrrrrl is pulled by her lunar crux. hormones in full flux. titties in full bloom and painful as a kick in the nads. this on top of some little hairline fractures that normally get washed out by a good day makes for ONE CRABBY ASSS LITTLE LADY! chocolate has nothing on me now.

i tried.

a patient dropped off a wine box full of hershey's kisses.

gee shucks. just what my fat ass needed. thanks.

more truths be told [i'm in that kind of mood, and you like it, so shaddup already] i was hurting yesterday when i had to come back into work after a fairly great weekend and a perfectly splendid sunday putting my space back in order. dishes, laundry, the kitchen floor, pitching clothes i never wear anymore, floor boards, and i cleared half the crap off my desk and brought the art supplies back out of hiding. ... it was like a honeymoon for my me-ness.

and then i had to go back to work.

and i was bloated.

and crabby.

and pissed that i work that hard.

aren't you glad you only have to read my lovliness, my lovelies?

and so it hit me.

or rather, i hit it.

the bottom.

more or less.

close enough. as close as i want to get to the bottom ever again in this realm.

i'm tired of being tired. and i'm tired of being too tired that i can't enjoy the people i know and love when i finally make time to see them. i'm tired of being lonely and tired of being pissed.

so friday morning i have an appointment with human resources to see what career options i have going for me while i'm not in school this fall.

depending on how that goes, i may schedule a couple appointments with head hunters.

i got skills.

i got talents.

i got titties. [that's for you, FS]

so give this bitch a better f'n paying job. she works her pretty little ass off. [notice it got smaller when i was working and not chowing down the poor quality chocolate? yeah.... i did.]

at any rate. i'm'unna go read some more blogs.

much love,
YL