New Job!

Yep, that's right. I got a new job.

This one totally fell into my lap. My former supervisor at my current job called me out of the blue and offered me a position at the assisted living facility where she is now Director of Nursing.

Basically, she needs an LPN who knows home care and knows assisted living to come in and overhaul the memory care unit. It's been run like a nursing home for the last 10 years, and corporate wants that to change. As she put it to me: "New policies and procedures, new documentation system, new med system, and new blood all at the same time. And I can't think of anyone I trust more to pull it off. This will be Your Baby!" I was totally honored by the compliment, and by the trust behind it.

Besides the incredible opportunity, I'll be making way more money. Sweet for me, and for my kids.

The staff at my current job is not happy that I'm leaving, but I have to put my family and my career first. Everyone close to me agrees that I would be a complete moron to pass up this opportunity.

I'll start going in here and there after I punch out at my current job, just to familiarize myself with the paperwork, resident profiles, etc before I go full-time in December. I gave this job six weeks' notice so that I can be sure that my replacement and the new supervisor are up to speed and comfortable with the system before I go.

So... yeah. On to bigger and better things!

It's finally happened...

I've finally been confronted with a situation in which falling down is not funny.

You all know how I delight in the sweet biffs of others... the more humiliating and painful the better. I've often wondered if I would ever find myself in a situation where I wouldn't find falling down funny.

Found it. Work.

Here's the thing: people at work (residents, not coworkers... if it were coworkers I'd still laugh) are falling down all the time. At least once a day I get a call that someone biffed it in their apartment and I have to go running up there to see if they're okay. Sometimes they are, and we just have to help them up, but most of the time they're not okay and I have to call 911 and send them to the hospital. Then they're there for a grip of time, have to go to rehab for about a month, and come back to us even more frail than when they originally fell.

It's not that I want to laugh when they fall but restrain myself. It's Really Not Funny. Holy crap, did I just say that? What the hell happened to me?

Dammit... I... CARE. Ugh. Pretty soon I'll probably start feeling sorry for people with mullets and stop laughing at drunk girls.

Aw, CRAP.

Boys are yucky and dumb.

I don't care how old or "mature" they get to be, they're still yucky, dumb pervs at heart.

I'm leading an exercise class at work 3 times a week. Remember, I work at an assisted living place, so the average age of my residents is about 86 yrs old.

The first time I led it last week, there were four little old men in the back row. We were doing chest presses, and I realized that every single one of them was ogling my rack! And not in a sneaky way, either... just STARING. I kept trying to make eye contact so they'd get embarrassed and look away from the headlights, but to no avail.

Yesterday I led the class again, and this time the 4 guys from the back row were front and center. Right smack in front of me and my sweater puppies. For god's sake, if you're gonna ogle, at least don't be so frickin' obvious about it!I mean, one guy even made a couple comments about my flexibility and my "sexy boots" right in front of his wife. Later I noticed that couple waiting for the elevator. I got on and so did the wife, but the dude was moving kinda slow, so the wife pressed the door close button and left him out there. Funny. I guess I would've too if I'd been her.

I'm tempted to show up on Friday in sweatpants and a huge T-shirt and just wreck all their fun. Yucky dumb boys.

Epiphany

I've been doing some soul-searching tonight, and I've come to some conclusions.

I AM POISON. You heard me.

I warned my ex-boyfriend on multiple occasions to get out while he still could. He didn't. I broke his heart. I destroyed what we had with my own issues and insecurities. He's a good man... he didn't deserve what became of us. I know I have a knack for blaming others for their parts in my meltdowns, and he did play his role, but I took it further and destroyed everything.

Once I see something as damaged, I turn tail and run. I don't stick around to do the hard work that it takes to fix things. I just up and leave. I'm terrified of getting hurt, so once I start to feel hurt, I curl up with my prickly spines out to prevent further damage to myself. Selfish? Yeah. I know it.

So I broke this man's heart because I was afraid. Afraid of pain. Afraid of rejection. Afraid of loss. What I failed to realize... or maybe what I just chose not to realize... is that he was just as afraid as I was. Afraid of all the same things, and maybe more so. Yet I rampaged ahead, and destroyed any chance of salvage.

Maybe I did the same with my ex-husband. I justified everything... I was in so much emotional agony... but maybe I was just selfishly unwilling to see past myself.

Now I'm with somebody new, and I've realized that I have the potential to destroy him. He's young, sweet, trusting, inexperienced... and I am a very dangerous thing for a man like that. We've never butted heads, never argued, but it would be unrealistic to say that it won't happen. And when it does... will I destroy him? Will I bulldoze him? I can't promise that it won't happen.

I don't like what I've become. I don't want to hurt people, I really don't. Yet I can't seem to stop myself. It seems that no one in my vicinity gets away completely unscathed.

Maybe my ex-husband was right: maybe having surgery, becoming attractive, turned me into some kind of monster. Maybe it really did turn me into the Mean Girl that I always despised in high school.

Have I really become that self-absorbed, that self-serving? Have I really become the kind of person who is determined to get what she wants, no matter the cost? Has "collateral damage" become okay to me?

Holy shit, I don't want to be that person...

Last week my oldest son said that he can't even remember what it feels like to have a mother. God, it broke my heart. I just figured that because of his age, his lifestyle, and his alliance with his dad, he just didn't need me or want me. I had no idea that he was waiting for me to reach out. What kind of mother is that???? My son needed me, and I had no idea.

I've said before, partially in jest, that I'm not fit to raise Sea Monkeys. Well, now in all honesty, I Am Not Fit To Raise Sea Monkeys, let alone human beings. What have I done??? My kid doesn't even know me anymore. Maybe no one really does. Maybe I'm not so sure myself.

So Yeah... I Am Poison. End of story. Buyer beware.