Two days to go and the only thing not finished on my list is cleaning the curtains. It'll just have to wait until December.
I finally cleaned out the Chalet and made it writer friendly. I have a clean, empty expanse of desk, notebook and pen neatly to one side, and inspirational Chris Baty quotes taped to the wall. Nano '05 is going to rock.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Thursday, October 27, 2005
A "Good Story" house
My job is great. I go into the homes of many people. The homes vary, the people vary. Some are wonderful and inspirational and you feel like a better person just for knowing them. Others are...well, a good story. Yeah, that was today.
The house was nasty. Nasty, nasty, nasty. I wonder if it's actually possible for it to stink from the outside? Because as I was ringing the bell, I was cranning my neck around to try to find the source of that funky smell. The source was not outside.
First off, the caregiver could not be bother to wear clothes. He wore a bathrobe and I'm postive that was all. Not even socks. So a naked guy in a robe answered the door. Good start.
And walking into that house was like hitting a wall of stink and it only got denser and thicker the closer I got to the client. Who is a lovely lady but bedridden with cancer.
The stink downstairs is nothing compared to smell upstairs. There's little old lady in the middle of bed and hardly any room to walk around the bed. There are plastic bags of clothes (maybe) all over the floor. There's a commode, an oxygen tank, a bedside table....all this nice hospital equipment but covered with junk. None of it is easily usable for the client.
I sat on my coat on a old red chair next to the client's bed. There's a reason I also bring a jacket or coat with me on visits, to tackfully protecting my behind from sitting in something gross. My leg kept brushing against this plastic bag on the floor. I'm not sure what was in the bag but the bag was WET. In my mind I'm screaming, "Oh! Gross!! Now I have to burn these pants!!!" But I smile and don't say anything. Directly.
And some of the bags moved. I know, it's just mice, but I hate mice. They give me the willies more than anything. I can handle sinks and unidentified wet surfaces but mice...I'm going to scream like a little girl.
And I keep coming back to the sink of urine, I know, but it was something foul. Honestly, in the middle of the visit I'm gagging and trying to cover it up like a cough, all the while wondering in a panic what to do if I puke all over this nice lady in her bed. That's bad.
The son, who is the caregiver, just had surgery and he's telling me how hard it is to keep up the house. Which I happened to notice. And he's telling me he's on disability for his arthritis but hands me half a dozen anti-psychotic medications that he's taking.
I don't want to take the mom out of the house. She's clean. She's being cared for. I talked with her privately and she said she was happy and safe. But clearly the house needs some housekeeping services pronto. I'm giving the son a week to find someone privately to help with the housekeeping or I'm arranging an agency. Fuck it, I'll call Merry Maids if I have to.
I couldn't get home fast enough to take a shower. I think the stink clung to my clothes. And the coat has to be dry cleaned now. See, a good story.
The house was nasty. Nasty, nasty, nasty. I wonder if it's actually possible for it to stink from the outside? Because as I was ringing the bell, I was cranning my neck around to try to find the source of that funky smell. The source was not outside.
First off, the caregiver could not be bother to wear clothes. He wore a bathrobe and I'm postive that was all. Not even socks. So a naked guy in a robe answered the door. Good start.
And walking into that house was like hitting a wall of stink and it only got denser and thicker the closer I got to the client. Who is a lovely lady but bedridden with cancer.
The stink downstairs is nothing compared to smell upstairs. There's little old lady in the middle of bed and hardly any room to walk around the bed. There are plastic bags of clothes (maybe) all over the floor. There's a commode, an oxygen tank, a bedside table....all this nice hospital equipment but covered with junk. None of it is easily usable for the client.
I sat on my coat on a old red chair next to the client's bed. There's a reason I also bring a jacket or coat with me on visits, to tackfully protecting my behind from sitting in something gross. My leg kept brushing against this plastic bag on the floor. I'm not sure what was in the bag but the bag was WET. In my mind I'm screaming, "Oh! Gross!! Now I have to burn these pants!!!" But I smile and don't say anything. Directly.
And some of the bags moved. I know, it's just mice, but I hate mice. They give me the willies more than anything. I can handle sinks and unidentified wet surfaces but mice...I'm going to scream like a little girl.
And I keep coming back to the sink of urine, I know, but it was something foul. Honestly, in the middle of the visit I'm gagging and trying to cover it up like a cough, all the while wondering in a panic what to do if I puke all over this nice lady in her bed. That's bad.
The son, who is the caregiver, just had surgery and he's telling me how hard it is to keep up the house. Which I happened to notice. And he's telling me he's on disability for his arthritis but hands me half a dozen anti-psychotic medications that he's taking.
I don't want to take the mom out of the house. She's clean. She's being cared for. I talked with her privately and she said she was happy and safe. But clearly the house needs some housekeeping services pronto. I'm giving the son a week to find someone privately to help with the housekeeping or I'm arranging an agency. Fuck it, I'll call Merry Maids if I have to.
I couldn't get home fast enough to take a shower. I think the stink clung to my clothes. And the coat has to be dry cleaned now. See, a good story.
Monday, October 24, 2005
sick day
I made it half way to work this morning when I decided that the desperate game I was playing of sneezing and trying to get a kleenex out of my pursing while driving in rush hour traffic was stupid and I should go home.
So I did. I'm congested and my sinuses hurt like they're trying to escape out of my head.
So I did. I'm congested and my sinuses hurt like they're trying to escape out of my head.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
A werewolf!
I wish I could say I know knew, or at least suspected...but apparently Neil Gaiman suffers from the same curse as Hemmingway.
He wrote on 10/15/2005: Day five of not-shaving, and I am starting to look a little like a werewolf.
Here's the photographic proof. I'm shocked.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Monday, October 10, 2005
Happy Columbus Day
I'm not really sure what is proper protocol in observing the holiday. Adopt an Italian accent? Claim a section of the living room for Espana?
I, however, endevored to make a pair of grossly pink with white kitten flannel jim-jams...for the long noveling month ahead, of course. And my sewing machine crapped out on me. Oh, and I was going to work on Halloween costumes. See, it's not all about the sugary sweet/potential birth control pajamas.
After struggling with the machine, sweet talking it, patiently treding and retreading, even when the bobbin lost tension and created a rat's nest...(stupid peice of crap, 99 bucks on sale at Sears...grumble, grumble...)I lost patience at noon. All morning, no jim-jams.
So I took it to the repair shop. "If it costs more thant 40 bucks to fix you, I guess you'll make someone a lovely doorstop," I said on the drive in. There's no point to the story, I'm just really cheesed off.
And that was the highlight of my day. I did, however, knock one item off my list. There is now a spanking new shower curtain in the bathroom. *applause* Thank you, thank you.
I, however, endevored to make a pair of grossly pink with white kitten flannel jim-jams...for the long noveling month ahead, of course. And my sewing machine crapped out on me. Oh, and I was going to work on Halloween costumes. See, it's not all about the sugary sweet/potential birth control pajamas.
After struggling with the machine, sweet talking it, patiently treding and retreading, even when the bobbin lost tension and created a rat's nest...(stupid peice of crap, 99 bucks on sale at Sears...grumble, grumble...)I lost patience at noon. All morning, no jim-jams.
So I took it to the repair shop. "If it costs more thant 40 bucks to fix you, I guess you'll make someone a lovely doorstop," I said on the drive in. There's no point to the story, I'm just really cheesed off.
And that was the highlight of my day. I did, however, knock one item off my list. There is now a spanking new shower curtain in the bathroom. *applause* Thank you, thank you.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Nano Countdown
I'm making a list of everything that needs to be done before November so I can completely ignore my husband and house with a free conscious. So far I have:
1. Burn photo cds for Melanie, Rick, Jenny, Debbie, and Clare. Right.
2. Really scrub the kitchen clean.
3. Stock up on tea and hot chocolate mixes.
4. Organize closet.
5. Finally move all the old Word files off Ian so Natalie can do something to him that I don't really understand.
6. Clean desk.
7. Wash all the curtains.
8. New shower curtain.
9. Eat Halloween candy in sick amounts.
It's a fun list, as you can see. Very grown up.
1. Burn photo cds for Melanie, Rick, Jenny, Debbie, and Clare. Right.
2. Really scrub the kitchen clean.
3. Stock up on tea and hot chocolate mixes.
4. Organize closet.
5. Finally move all the old Word files off Ian so Natalie can do something to him that I don't really understand.
6. Clean desk.
7. Wash all the curtains.
8. New shower curtain.
9. Eat Halloween candy in sick amounts.
It's a fun list, as you can see. Very grown up.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Firefly
I saw Serentiy this afternoon. Josh Whedon is on my list of "people who owe me money/I have to kick in the nuts".
Let me explain. Natalie hands me the box set of Firefly, a short lived t.v. show. She says I'll love it. I remembered the show when it originally aired but never got into it. I was willing to give it another go.
I don't like Firefly. I love it. It's a truly great show. Great cast of characters, snappy dialogue, all the things I love.
The show was cancelled and has resurfaced as a movie. I couldn't wait to see it.
And the movie was fun. A good movie. Except Wash died!
Wash died!!!! And for ten horrible minutes, I was sure that the rest of the cast was going to snuff it as well.
I'm still in shock. Josh Whedon is on my list.
Let me explain. Natalie hands me the box set of Firefly, a short lived t.v. show. She says I'll love it. I remembered the show when it originally aired but never got into it. I was willing to give it another go.
I don't like Firefly. I love it. It's a truly great show. Great cast of characters, snappy dialogue, all the things I love.
The show was cancelled and has resurfaced as a movie. I couldn't wait to see it.
And the movie was fun. A good movie. Except Wash died!
Wash died!!!! And for ten horrible minutes, I was sure that the rest of the cast was going to snuff it as well.
I'm still in shock. Josh Whedon is on my list.
Monkey Fish
So the little cat, Ethel, says to me, "Stupid monkey."
"What did you say?"
"You heard me, stupid monkey. M-u-n-k-p-h-i-s-h-e-y. Monkey."
"But there's no ph-"
"The fish is for smelling, no spelling, Munkphishey."
"Right."
I really shouldn't pick fights the cats.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me, stupid monkey. M-u-n-k-p-h-i-s-h-e-y. Monkey."
"But there's no ph-"
"The fish is for smelling, no spelling, Munkphishey."
"Right."
I really shouldn't pick fights the cats.
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