Vacation is a word that means work.

When I did my laundry yesterday I didn’t wash any actual clothes.  Only scrubs.  I have dreams almost exclusively about my residents.  Also had a dream that my elderly Arabic coworker borrowed my favorite scrub top and wrote “This belongs to Amy” in pen down the front so he’d remember to return it to me.   (I was surprised both that he had it without my knowledge and that he’d managed to fit into it, while at the same time not surprised at all at the fact that he’d want to wear a woman’s scrub top).

I worry that this job will kill my back and I’ll be hunched over trying to help people while bent in half.

 I don’t know if I can be a CNA for the rest of my life.

A degree in University Studies is probably pretty freaking useless.

Good things:

Holiday Pay.
Overtime Pay.
I keep overhearing people saying nice things about me, because elderly folk are bad at judging how well I can hear them.

Advertisements

Idiot.

I am changing my major for the sixth and last time.  At this point I just want a degree and I want to GET OUT. If I continued with English Education I would graduate in May of 2015. I can’t do that. My scholarship only covers four years, not five, and to be honest, if I have to pay for college, it isn’t worth it.

(This is not my picture)

All I need is a degree to get a decent teaching job overseas. A degree in anything. So! Bachelor of University Studies it is, I am now officially a non-major. I can take whatever classes I want (mostly upper level though) and I will graduate May of 2014, like I had originally planned. WOOH GETTING OUT GETTING OUT GETTING OUT!

I’m getting TEFL (teaching English as a Foreign Language) certified this summer in Thailand.  That, together with a degree, should be enough to get me a job most places.  Except America, but hey, who wants to teach here anyways, all the kids are disrespectful.  (is that a stereotype, also, why do I like parenthesis so much?)

anyways: poetry. (mine)

Untitled

jet trails slice
what every crystal ball
has been too overcast to show me
across ursa major
I would rip apart my cupboards
smash everything breakable
sacrifice my household appliances
on an altar of
materialism
if I thought my possessions were
holding me back
like a tree I have always been
my own cage
do not ask me to stay
do not wish on the night sky
that your arms will be strong enough
to keep me
flightless

Oh amy, why ya gotta be so melodramatic?

Cages are just dramatic that’s all. Even when they’re imaginary.  Takes violence to get out.  Fun fact: I’ve still never punched anyone.