After a few days off I've gone full force back into working, (the days off were not by choice). Two doubles in a row and my scheduler was ringing the phone off the hook to schedule me another one today, thought I had the day off, but since I been bitching about hours and money I had to take what I could get and settled with a 12 hour.
I left the hospital gig alone for a while, as weepy as I'm going to be with the doubles... I get tearful when I'm tired, I cry at everything... Its probably not a good idea, not to mention they were the ones that gave me the unwanted days off.
I've been seeing alot of stupid things circulating around about memorial day and being patriotic, I've a suggestion to make... Put your fucking money where your mouth is and instead of having a picnic to "commemorate" the fact that you have a day off, why dont you go into any nursing home and pay respect yourself to any veteran who is locked within these geriatic warehouses with no family? They dont care if you blog your patriotic tendencies or pass it on in a myspace bulletin, they dont care if you wave a flag outside your house, they are the true forgotten. Yes we have those now who are fighting for our freedoms, but there are those that fought long ago, most times not coming home to the "hoorah" that is given now adays and have noone to talk to. You would be suprised at what stories they could tell you. And having spent quite a bit of time with alot of them I can tell you they dont care if you burn a flag, wipe your ass with one, what your political affiliations are, what you feel about the war, what you look like, what religion you are, what you wear etc.. etc... They would simply be happy to have someone pay attention to them for a while.
This is what I will be doing on memorial day.
The Little Boy and the Old Man
Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the little old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the old man.
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.