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.