Animal Magnetism

Once I came across a puppy being walked by his owner...I was so consumed with the need to visit with the puppy that I never even looked at the owner. I couldn't tell you what he looked like, but the puppy was a bulldog mix of some sort. When I go into a resident's apartment, and they have a pet, I immediately am looking for the animal, and not paying full attention to the resident. I always get the job done, but I also make a new friend of their pet. Cats, dogs, whatever, the animal always is drawn to me just like I am to them. As I sit here, nursing my cat wounds that I got from trying to help a stray, I really want to hear from the Emergency Vet I applied to. I know I could be good at that. And maybe, just maybe, I could meet someone who is just as passionate about their animals as I am. And maybe I could find companionship beyond my own cats. I hope they call. This is something that has to happen soon, I have to get the ball rolling if I'm going to make it to Africa. And look how happy I am when I'm with the animals! It's just meant to be.

Groundhog Day

Life here at the retirement community, as it were, is like the movie Groundhog Day. The same things happen daily, the same comments, the same stories, everything the same and it is wearing on me. I find myself trying to tune things out more and more and it makes me feel guilty because I genuinely care about the health and happiness, however, if I have to listen to these stories for much longer, my head will explode. I'm so tired. I applied to an Emergency Vet Clinic today, with a cover letter telling them about my plans for Africa and how I need the experience to help me with my future career. And truly, I DO need the experience. I do not have time to volunteer right now and can't afford it if I did. It's a part time position, so I have made it clear that I have to make at least $15 an hour in order to live. I hope I get a call back before I drive my car off a cliff.

To Age or Not to Age?

As anyone who actually reads my blog, I work with senior citizens and often, they advise me to "never get old". As I settle into my thirties, I am starting to notice the subtle changes that come with time; eye baggage, skin that actually looks better with special anti-aging creams. I find myself staring at my face in the mirror, doing the all-too-cliché pulling up and pulling back of my facial and neck skin, wondering where the my youth went? Does it actually disappear, or get passed on to the next generation? Does the stress of each day actually kill it? They say that energy never actually dies, and that when our bodies die, the energy continues to move around. Is that the same of beauty and youth? What exactly happens to our collagen and pigment? Science would have us believe that we are nothing but a combination of water and energy and some other combination of cells and such, so why is it that with age, we lose these things that make us appealing to other people, as well as to our own vanity? Some theologians would tell us that we lose our beauty and energy because Eve took a bite out of the forbidden apple and getting old is our punishment. Other theologians would have us thank god for such a long life and consider death as the ultimate payment for the original sin. I personally, do not believe in Genesis, as it holds no logic. I mean, if God didn't want Eve to eat the forbidden fruit, then why make it a big, juicy apple? Why not make it the forbidden Okra? But I digress. It isn't a question of WHY we age and die, but why it is necessary to guarantee such a long, drawn out life? I keep hearing my residents telling me how awful it is getting old, the aching, the drooping, the sagging, the loss of the control over your body AND mind. Who wants that? Maintenance...that's all it is. Already, at the age of 31, I've been maintaining my skin, my hair, my weight (trying at least) and my energy level. It's downhill from here. The skin sags, the hair thins, the weight STAYS, and the energy somehow escapes. I smoke my cigarettes to keep from being mean or getting too hungry. People tell me to quit smoking because it will decrease my lifespan, and I don't see the reasons to want to live to be 90...or even 100! Your bones get weak and brittle, your brain gets dull and your memory fades, and then what exactly are you living for? Awaiting the inevitable hip brake? Looking forward to forgetting your closest friends? And for people like me, Spinsters who do not plan on marrying or having offspring, then what? Live to be 100 years old, alone and forgotten?

Don't get me wrong, readers. I do not wish to die now, I'm only saying that I'm not afraid of death the way that other's are afraid of death. I don't want to die by a serial killer or of cancer, simply because I want a better story for my obituary. I hope to meet my demise in Africa, doing something I'm passionate about, rather than rotting away with old age. Oh don't worry, I will still try to maintain what youth I have left, I will pay for the anti-aging cream and diet pills and shiny shampoo...for a while longer. But my legacy will not be to try to defy the nature of aging, but it will also not be to defy death. Somewhere in the middle is where I belong. I will, however, mourn my loss of youth, at least every now and again...until this body rots and my energy moves on.

The Backstabbing Bitch

It seems to me that my boss had a plan...give her more work, she will throw a fit, and then we can fire her...ah, but I foiled their nefarious plan with enthusiasm. I believe that my boss is under the impression that I am after her job...Quite the contrary... I would rather be a janitor, than manage a place like this. So many issues and way too corporate to care enough to fix those issues. A certain resident did raise an interesting point, however, saying that the culprit of all these changes is a backstabbing bitch...OK, "backstabbing bitch" is my name for her, but she made the point, all the same. Yes, she is very sweet and cute, and asks me to do extra stuff and then checks, possibly even tries to sabotage my work...oh yes, I'm on the lookout for little things left in just the spot that I may not notice...I find them, suck them up with the vacuum or wipe them off. Yes, keep trying though backstabbing bitch, I will outsmart you every time. I wonder if there is anymore I can do to fool them into thinking I am being SUPER cooperative?? I'm sure I will think of something...already tonight I had to fix an bed sheet incident the backstabbing bitch overlooked. I fixed it and told the resident to tell the boss. Yes, I should definitely take this off my "Favorites". I will be focusing on this conspiracy and updating periodically...it's important not to get too comfortable. I'm totally up for the battle of wits...Backstabbing Bitch vs. The Spinster. It's on!

Shout it From the Mountain Top!

My work sucks. There it has been written! I'm pretty sure that they are trying to weed us out, totally unaware that there are no other jobs...OR, they are doing whatever they want with us because they KNOW there are no other jobs. Either way they are all evil republicans who make far more money than any of us and like to show it off by making us feel small and insignificant. Ah yes, authority. My "superiors" also added several extra hours of work per night, all of which I have to find time to do after the doors are locked. It's not the extra work that bothers me, it's the tone in which it was given to me. As if I'm not doing my part or pulling my weight. Little do they know that there are so many other things that I do here, that are not on the checklist, stuff I just do, for the residents, for my co-workers, even for the families of the residents. They all call on me, and I do it without needing acknowledgment or reward. Does that make me noble? Or does that make me a fool?
Yes, my work has had me sign a new Employee Handbook and there was a whole section on "blogging" and what NOT to say and such. Oh how I would love to shout their company name from the mountain tops and tell everyone how fascist they really are! It also read in the handbook that makeup should look natural and no tattoos should show, hair color should be natural...well! I have a big tattoo showing as I write, and dark red lips. Our bartender has a nose piercing and pink hair. And don't get me started on the boss's makeup. Nothing natural about that, let ME tell YOU. Cleopatra wore less makeup. Man that feels so good. I will have to delete this link off of this work computer now that i've begun talking shit...and oh yes, this IS only the beginning. If they want to treat me like a slave, so be it, I need them, there is no denying it, and I will quietly do my job, and be agreeable. But here, I am allowed to be myself and say what I need to say. I am the spinster. This is MY blog. In the mean time, I need to find something to hit or kick. I'm very pissed off.