Work is slow, only SEVEN patients, which means I'm sucking up a paycheck for not doing a whole lot. Only the fact that I know ALL HELL will soon break loose and once again I'll be straining both my back, and the few nerves I have left, is all that keeps me from feeling a wee bit guilty. If this job was always this pleasant I could live with it indefinitely. I can "spend time" with people. I can cater to their every need instead of blowing them off because there are a ZILLION things that take priority over a request for graham crackers, a better pillow, a longer light cord, a-can-of-ginger-ale-but-make-sure-it's-not-diet-and-I-don't-suppose-you-have-Vernors-by-any-chance, a TV that actually, um, works, a bed by the window, or a different roommate please, and preferably one who doesn't pee on the floor.
One current patient is 600 pounds. Yes, you read that right. I doubt if my Saturn weighs much more than that. But he is an absolute delight--plus he moves astonishingly well. If not, with only 2 nurses on the floor this could pose a bit of a problem. And Non-Wandering-Drug-Addict is back because shooting up in her arms just wasn't good enough. Now she's shooting up in her legs, so of course she's infected. But she's a sweetheart, too. The Evil Ones have left! I can live with this.
I've been trying to get a day off, but no such luck. I have about 90 pages to go on my edits and I re-e-eally want to have it printed out by this time next week. Two full days of editing coming up starting tomorrow, plus I've been working on it every morning. Looks like it'll end up around 90K.
I forgot to do a Monday Memory--but my memories lately haven't been altogether pleasant and the unpleasant ones I'm not in the mood to post. A bit depression has settled in as far as Max is concerned which is why I was up at 4 a.m. and unable go go back to sleep. I suspect if I weren't so involved in my manuscript, it'd be a lot worse. Thank you, Shawna!