The stuff I was going to write about yesterday

Yesterday was a nice slow day as far as days in the nursing home go. It didn't quite start out that way. My partner had a late doctor's appointment so she was late. I had every intention of having all the medications passed out by the time she got there at 5pm. As it was by 4pm I'd finished two rooms. All thanks to a man and his family who seemed to think that 103 was too low a blood sugar (103 is actually quite high, him being a diabetic and all. 75-90 is considered about normal) At any rate. They gave me shit about it. They went in and talked to my boss about it. In the meantime his doctor called me about it, because they had apparently been harrassing him about it as well. All this in the space of an hour. My partner showed up closer to 4 which I was happy about. We got the meds done by 5 and as it was snowing, I decided to run out for dinner early before the roads got too bad.

So after dinner around 6pm I don't have much to do. Then for some reason I start thinking about fire drills and how we haven't had one in a while. Then I think that, that moment right then would be a good time to have one, because no one is really that busy yet, the patients are abnormally docile and I'm standing there desperatly trying to justify the $18.72/hour I'm making. Then I think "No, if we have a fire drill today, it would be during a med pass when we're all busy." So, it would seem I jinxed myself. I maintain that that shouldn't have counted since I never actually said any of those words out loud. Not only did we have a fire drill during the med pass. It was actually during the five minute break I had taken to use the bathroom. So there I am on the toilet when alarms start blaring. It was not a fun time.

The fire drill guy complimented me on my shirts. Not in a gay way, but just because I wear these nice brightly colored shirts all the time. My mom makes them. I tend to wear dark colors, and I was wearing dark colors to work when I was buying shirts myself. Mom didn't seem to like that. She thought it was boring. So now I have a lot of brightly colored shirts to wear. I don't really like bright colors, but everyone else seems to. And there's an unforseen advantage. My street clothes are very dark. 95% of my wardrobe is black, and virtually nothing else gets any brighter than navy blue. Occasionally I'll be daring and wear and subdued red. I have a couple white T-shirts I wear infrequently. My point (Yes there is one) is that people I meet at work (especially patients and their family members) seem to only recognize me for my shirts. Since I started dressing pretty at work I haven't once been acosted by some family member of a person I take care of while not on duty. They've looked right at me and not even recognized me.

I think I understand just a little some of the inconvenience celebrities go through whenever they attempt to go out in public. There is nothing more annoying than someone coming up to you while your shopping on your day off and talking to you about work. I try to be understanding and polite when really I'm thinking "Why am I talking to you if I'm not getting paid?" I feel like I should put in for overtime or something. So, I've decided that in the unlikely event I see anyone famous just walking on the street, I'm not going to say anything. There are two exceptions. If I saw Mira Furlan I would quietly inform her that I think she's a wonderful actress and thank her for providing me with hours of enjoyment. And if I saw Kate Botello, I would tell her she's the coolest person on Earth and they only woman I've ever considered switching teams for.