love in all caps

Sometimes people just need to be looked in the face and made to feel real.

Love the old people.  Think I get more real every day from working there.

Also currently trying to learn this dance.

Tutorial: HERE (It’s only for the first minute or so of the video)


Was talking with my previous roommate and she asked me if I’ve ever thought about going back to school…  Basically the conversation turned into me justifying my decision to stay in Fargo and work as a CNA.

I’m happy.  I get to take vacations whenever I want, for months at a time.  How many people get to do that?  I couldn’t do the five days a week, two  weeks a year off thing.  I just couldn’t. 

We started talking about the summer and how worried she was that I was becoming depressed then… Honestly I had forgotten all about it.  I was sad this summer. I can’t believe I forgot about that. 

So now I’m thinking too much, trying to figure out why specifically I was so out of it this summer.  Maybe because I didn’t take any solo trips.  Maybe because I didn’t have my own room, or because people kept canceling on me when I tried to make plans. 

Or maybe my brain is just that way.  Sends me down into the abyss sometimes.  It’s okay though.  I can always see the light up there.

Hmm.  Don’t know.


I was helping this EXTREMELY sassy old lady at work.  Our conversation:

Me:  “I think I’ll dye my hair blue here soon.”

Her: “WHAT.  That is a VERY BAD idea.  Why would you want to do that?”

Me:  “No it will be awesome!  It’s gonna be like a work of art… they’ll put me in a museum or something.”

Her: “Yeah they’ll put you in a museum.  A museum for monkeys.”

Me:  “There are no monkeys in the museum.”

Her:  “WellThere’ll be one .”

Meaning me.  Hahahhahah I had to laugh.  This lady really makes a lot of my coworkers angry (and also me, on occasion, though not since I’ve gotten back).  It’s funny how in a sitcom situation she would be the quirky old cute lady who has a sharp tongue and wit.  In reality, she brings people to tears.  For every funny little conversation like that, are a few hundred instances of please-less orders, eye-rolls, and sarcastic yet oddly not-funny comments.  But I do get a couple gems from her. So that’s that.

Brain hurts me

Tossing and turning thinking of this nursing home performance.. Dunno why this is stressing me out, pretty sure the old people will love it no matter what.  And I’m a good dancer.  But somehow I keep messing up the suicide dips and other moves I should know by now…. Merrrrr whatever. It will be a good experience. Haven’t performed dance in front of other people for over two years now.  Why is this stressing me soooo…. It’s gonna be fun.   Hope I don’t freak myself out (not like I’m not doing that now haha).  Maybe it’s best to just not volunteer to do things that make me nervous.   But then I just coast through life doing nothing but working… Maybe a challenge is good spice.   Let’s face it I have no ambition.  I can’t believe I’m actually going though with this.  Feels like my first day teaching in Thailand.

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.


it took decades
to sharpen your spine
into something that
doesn’t crack on the
high notes

now surrounded by
 eight octaves of pain
through the crescendo of a
phone call

(her daughter is in a coma, it would not be
prudent to
stay home
they say


you don’t abandon ship,
leave her to cry alone

you don’t even

I have only developed a few immunities.  It’s mostly that I wince.  I wince and I try not to let anyone see that things still hit me hard, even after being in this job for over half a decade.  I believe in the power of back rubs. I hold hands with old ladies (and old men for that matter) because being alone is shitty.  Falling asleep by yourself, alone, can be downright awful, especially when you aren’t completely sure how long you are going to be around, or who might be there in the morning to help you get up.

Also everyone should watch the netflix original drama “Derek”.  That show is golden.

back to normal life

Conversation with one of the old ladies at my nursing home:

Her:  What do they call toilet paper in Thailand?

Me: Well… they call it toilet paper….I guess.

Her:  I bet they call it butt-wipe!

(laughs uncontrollably)


(laughs uncontrollably)

I freakin’ love my job.

Eight Hour Shifts

I know you don’t smile
for days,
when I’m not here
not here to sing you
Frank Sinatra songs
sugar sugar how ya
get so fly
not here to spin you around
(even in a wheelchair,
you dance beautifully
and I never won’t tell you this)
you ask me
when you can leave
I tell you
and leave the room
holding back tears