Observation... again.

My mother and I are more alike than I realized.

Ever since my parents began denying my requests for the kitty, I've been venting my frustrations to the DH.

Don't they WANT a good home for their cat?

We had a cat with goopy eyes just like Tink has and we are pros and giving the medicine to fix it.

We'd give her such a great home.

She'd have so many friends here.

We already have all the supplies to care for another cat!!


.....

The DH was a wonderful listener and just nodded his head in agreement with me the whole time I gnashed my teeth in frustration.

Today, while talking to my mother she made all these same points as we were talking. It reminded me how alike we are. The "alikeness" is probably what makes us clash so much.

I am turning into my mother!

Insanity. Pure Insanity.

!

No No NONONO!! was my parents' reply when I begged for the kitten the first time I first saw her.

You have too many animals already! Give us a grand baby instead!

Each time the DH and I have visited their home I've pointed out Tink and said "That's MY kitty." And each time they've shook their heads and rejected my begging groveling whining kind requests.

I'd sit there on the floor playing with Tink (nickname from.. I know not where), Cutie Face (because she has one) and Howler (because she does) and just dream of kittiness. I'd give my parents lots of helpful advice on the cats and just pray they'd catch on at what a great animal mommy I am. Words can't express the pride I felt when the mommy cat wanted my water-softened kitten kibble more than the sliced turkey my dad was offering her. And I helped the kittens start their weening process also, which made me happy. But still... no kitty for me! *WAAH*

Yesterday I finally resigned myself to the fact that I was likely INSANE to want another cat. After all, I was the one who was so against getting Fluffy last year. Why should I protest a third cat and then beg for a fourth? Makes no sense, right?

DH doesn't know since he's at home sound asleep, but my mother just called and gave me permission to take Tink. PROVIDED that I also take Cutie Face and help her find a good home. Heaven help us if we ended up bonding to her and can't give her up. AHH!! Five CATS? Howler, for the record will be staying with my parents. They will spay her and she and her mommy can live happily ever after, hunting the mice that keep trying to live in my daddy's shop. Wonder if she'll end up with a better name than "Howler".

My head is spinning.

Ms.B

meow

Professionalism at its Finest

An upbeat, nice, friendly gal came and applied for a job here at the care center two days ago. Yesterday afternoon, while I was helping with sack lunch, she came back for an interview with the program director and the afternoon supervisor. They backed up my opinion that she seemed great. This morning, when I arrived at work, there was a note with her application stating "Offer this girl a job!". And so I dialed her phone number.


RING RING RING

And then the answering machine clicked on.

"Shag's Abortion Clinic. You make em, we scrape em. No fetus can beat us! Please leave a message after the beep!"

.......................

!!!

Regardless of anyone's stance on touchy subjects like abortion, don't ya think you'd create a generic phone message when you are job hunting and receiving calls from potential employers?

Or maybe I'm just too sensitive.

I'll give her another call later. Maybe she'll be home this time. If not... perhaps I'll leave a message.


Ms.B

Not sure...

The girl seemed familiar to me. And when our eyes met she smiled as if she recognized me too. But we didn't stop to talk. Just smiled and kept walking.

I wonder who the hell she was.

I'm positive it was Jam she wanted...

and that's what she got in her lunch today when she neglected to come down to make it herself.

Enjoy your sandwich tomorrow, Miss L.


Ain't I a stinker?


Ms.B


p.s. The tuna/honey would have been more exciting but I am too much of a poosie to risk getting in trouble.

Adventures in Sack Lunch

Ms.B: Hello, Miss L. What kind of sandwich do you want to make for your lunch tomorrow?

Miss L.: What kind do you got?

Ms.B: Turkey and Peanut Butter

Miss L.: Peanut Butter.

Ms.B: *knows she likes Honey and always picks it* Would you like honey with your peanut butter?

Miss L.: I want Jam today.

Ms.B: *surprised at the Jam request* You want JAM today?

Miss L.: YES!

Ms.B: Okay! *begins to scoop jam into a small cup so Miss L can spread it on her sandwich*

Miss L.: What are you doing? I said I wanted HONEY!

Ms.B: No you didn't, you said... *bites tongue* .... okay. Here is some honey then.

.............................

If looks could kill I'd be in jail right now. Miss L does this to me at LEAST once a month. Next time she neglects to come down to make her lunch I'll make her a "Tuna & Honey" sandwich. BWWA HAHA.

But really now...


Ms.B

Randomness

She wants a job so badly that she left me a message at both 2:17 p.m. (marked URGENT) as well as 2:19. Yet when I called her back I got her voice mail.

I left a message saying the position she was applying for was filled.

Darn.

_____________________________________________________________________

She tried to be a friend to me, perhaps because of her residual guilt. But what I really needed was for her to be my mother again.

_____________________________________________________________________

She saw someone struggling and retrieved a tissue box. Brought it before most others even realized her friend was crying.

_____________________________________________________________________

It's amazing how much faster the yearly meetings seem to go when they are for residents you love extra much.

_____________________________________________________________________

His old caseworker used to say she was sad to see him doing poorly and would leave to visit him at the psych hospital... only she'd go to the mall instead.

His new caseworker saw early signs of him possibly needing to return to the psych hospital and cried in front of all her co-workers because it touched her heart. I doubt you'll find her at a mall if she says she's going to go visit him.

_____________________________________________________________________

She's a spoiled rotten brat. Seeing her with her parents, you can tell how she got that way. If she doesn't have everything "just so" she freaks out and frequently tries to hurt others.

Yesterday she was playing Connect Four in the parlor by herself and I stopped to watch. After a while I asked if I could drop one of the plastic coins in a slot. We ended up playing until dinner time.

For that 45 minutes I really really liked her.

_____________________________________________________________________

Carolyn and Caroline are not the same name, nor are they pronounced the same way.

_____________________________________________________________________

I doodle on scrap paper a lot during meetings. I noticed the other day that most of my drawings are of snails. I wonder if these pictures are my way of subliminally stating how slow most meetings seem to go.


Ms.B

News Alert

There are reports that a local citizen named Ms.B has morphed into a 12 year old boy going through puberty. Or so her voice would lead you to believe. Cracking, Squeeking. It's not pretty.

Although weak of voice, we're pleased to share that the fore-mentioned Ms.B ate her first solid foods since this past Saturday when she first fell ill. The outcome of this intake of solids is yet to be determined but we are hopeful for a positive return.

Who are we kidding. We're the news. We want DRAMA. We hope she blows chunks so we have something exciting to report about. But seriously, it looks like she's on the mend.

When asked about her progress, Ms.B told us "I feel like a pile of shit. But its a smaller pile of shit than it was yesterday."

And there you have it folks.

Be sure to tune in to our program next week where we'll share our coverage on a local "Crazy Cat" who has suddenly decided that dogs are evil and swells like a puffer fish when one comes near her.

Over and Out.

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

I'm on FIRE, baby!

No, literally. On fire. My temperature at the InstaCare last night registered 102.5. That's not good.

The final diagnosis was Bronchitis. The doctor has told me to do nothing but rest for the next three days. Honestly, its the beginning of the month and there is a lot to do at the care center. I hope I feel better sooner than Thursday. But if not, I have a note that will hopefully satisfy my boss and assist him in forgiving my absence.

I've whined and complained about being ill in the past but I honestly don't remember ever being this bad. I could barely breath last night until the doctor gave me a breathing treatment. Even after that it was a bit of a challenge.

Feeling gross is never fun but I think I could handle it better if I wasn't so exhausted at the same time. Boo.

Ms.B

p.s. I'm sure my illness has nothing to do with the mold and sewage that filled the air of the care center for the entirety of last week.

*rolls eyes*

Happy Hour

I've been in a great mood the last few hours. No real story to go with that statement. Just figured it should be documented since my last few blog entries were total bitch-fests.

Weeee!! Happy Day!!

Maybe my good mood has something to do with all the open windows and fans in the building that have made the horrible smell in the hallway lessen. Heck, who cares what the cause is.

I'm HAPPY!

For the love of all that is STINKY

The pipes beneath the floor in the office area of the care center have burst (yet again) causing smelly nastiness to spread throughout the entire building. It's shit. It's food. It's mold. It's all the horrid things you'd imagine must run through underground pipes.

The air is thick. Hard to breath. My head aches. My nose burns.

I've been keeping the door closed to keep the smell out and the warmth in. People have been in and out of the office all morning for various reasons. Of all that have come and gone only one has been courteous enough to close the door again behind themself.

That person is one of our mentally retarded residents. Hmmm....



Mrs.B

Frustration

I can't even have a conversation with her anymore. Half way through my comments she interrupts and asks questions that don't even apply to what I am speaking of.

They said what? Wait, WHO said it? Why did they say that? Wait, who said it again?

I wish I knew where my patience went to. I search for understanding as to why she frustrates me so much.

The only answer I can come up with is that I'm a raving bitch.


Ms.B