Your Unemployment Bothers Me

I understand the economy sucks right now. I understand you may not be educated enough to enter data on a computer screen, pronounce AND spell rezoomay, get up early and work all day, or even understand the concept of POS systems. However, seeing you sit on your ass, DAILY, puffing away continuously on Marlboro reds, sipping on yet ANOTHER soda from Sunmart is beginning to aggravate me.

When I ask you how the job hunt is going, be creative. Stating "there are just no jobs out there" is bullshit. There ARE jobs out there. You just don't want to (A) work the hours they are wanting you to work or (B) don't want to take the time to re-train yourself in a new field. Either way, it falls on the fact that you are fine with having garage sales every wekeend to help pay your rent with shit that is being donated by a church. You are probably OK with simply collecting unemployment benefits. Whatever the case, as a tax payer I feel like its my right to inform you that I think you can be doing more to find work. Your kids are old enough to take care of themselves. Your car seems to run fine. You are able to walk to the mailbox and back. Your voice, at least right now, is healthy enough to bellow at me, asking if my place of employment is hiring from across the street. Let's do some math, shall we?

Being I do not know the price of a carton of Marlboro reds, I have to assume they are expensive since they are a brand name. You have to buy a carton, because buying them by pack doesn't make sense. Figuring on the burly, raspy tone of your voice and your hacking productive smoker's cough, I am going to assume, again, that you smoke about 3 packs a day. There are 10 packs in a carton. So, if the price of a carton is $50, and you go through 2 cartons a week, that is $100 a week in just smokes, or $400 a month, almost $5000 a year. I have no idea what your unemployment is but lets guess its $400 a week...$1600 a month. Seems a bit much to me, but whatever...benefit of the doubt I guess. Rent can't be less than $700. So for $1100 a month you have a cush, comfy porch to park your ass while you burn 25% of your monthly state, provided stipend away. This leaves about, estimating of course, $500 for gas, groceries and utilities, not to mention your son's cell phone bill. Maybe it's your phone, but the manner in which he hides his conversations from you, I can only imagine it being his.

I guess I am aggravated at myself for realizing I needed a career change and getting the schooling required to change professions and actually doing it, while working, while making sure my kid's don't miss out on time with me, or making time for the family when I really need to be studying, and working 55 hours a week to make sure I do not have to depend entirely on others...and then watching you do nothing except progress towards cancer and arteries that resemble re-bar. Don't be shocked that I don't waive at you. Your choice to manipulate the system so your life is easier is yours to do with what you choose, as is my choice to be neighborly. Waving, although courtesy, is a sign that I am OK that you sit on your ass all day. I'm not, so I don't waive.

Oh, next week, the next time I see your cat I am going to give him some anti-freeze before he shits in my yard again.

P is Bad, but F is OK

It's been way too long since I have posted on here. I figured I needed to stay relevant and try my best to relay some humor to those that might need a giggle or two. School has been keeping me insanely busy. Life, in general has thrown some snags my way. I am still alive however, for better or worse.

Doing home care can introduce you to many different things. For example, in the elderly, a simple UTI (urinary tract infection) can cause the patient to become rather incoherent. The urge to pee is there, yet, nothing comes out. Now, as a care provider, I have to answer all requests for care. It would be un-ethical for me to ignore a request to empty a urinal that, 45 seconds ago was bone dry. However, I go. Let me paint a picture for you. Two people, husband and wife, laying in two twin beds adjacent to one another, the husband is VERY hard of hearing, and the wife is....nuts. Not dementia nuts, just....nuts. It is a choice she makes to be weird. She also has no problem stating what is on her mind. She asked me to make sure the window was open 4 inches and to be sure it was 4 inches I should put my penis up there. The husband has hair growing out of his ears, more or less because his ear canals are about as useful as Snooki's vagina. He speaks pretty well, just loud. Very loud. So now you know, husband, my client, has an urge to pee, yet no pee comes out. He is fairly lucid, yet his mind is fuzzy because of this infection. The wife is annoyed because when he calls for help, he yells. She hears just fine. However, she yells back at him, complaining that he doesn't need to yell. From the couch it sounds like this (I will change the names because of HIIPA)

Lloyd - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Rose - Dammit Lloyd, you don't need to yell (yelling)! What do you need?!
Lloyd - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Rose - Do you have to VOID?!
Lloyd - HUHHHHHH?!?!?!
Rose - DO....YOU....HAVE....TO....VOID!!!!?!?!!

I got up at "AHHHHHHHHHHH" the first few dozen times because that is the responsible thing to do. When I get in there, he taps his groin region above the covers, like I needed to hint of why I was being called in. I donned the gloves, pulled back the covers, and removed the urinal. It was as empty as the space between Lindsay Lohan's ears. I shake it in front of him, turn it upside down showing him it was empty. He stares at me, not in bewilderment but as if to tell me he likes ice cream or fuzzy bunnies. I put the urinal back. His wife tells him its empty and its time to go to bed. "HUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!?!!?!?!?!?!?," he says. I walk out and go sit back down with highlighter and Nursing Fundamentals book in hand. Understand, for the first few hours of the shift, this went on continuously, every 5 minutes. The final time, Rose asked me not to come back and just ignore him. OK....so I did. Then I heard this conversation.

Lloyd - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Rose - Shut UP Lloyd....you don't need anything!!!!
Lloyd - AHHHHHHHHH....AHHHHHHH....AHHHHHHH....AHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Rose - WHAT DO YOU NEEED!?!?! He was just IN HERE!!!! YOUR URINAL IS EMPTYYYYY!!!!! GO TO BED, ITS 1 IN THE MORNING! If you don't shut up I am going to put this pillow over your head!!!
Lloyd - PISS-O-RAMA...PISS-O-RAMA.....MR. DICK....PISS-O-RAMA
(this is the part that suprises the HELL outta me)
Rose - I hate that word Lloyd. Do you like that word, Lloyd?!?! Do you like being dirty? Do you like being FILTHY?!?!? I can't stand that FUCKING word!!!

Eh?

So, let me get this straight. It's NOT OK to say 'piss'...but perfectly fine to say 'fucking?' For a minute, I was thinking her conversation was going in an entirely different direction. I anticipated a "Titanic" type porno with a whispy-clad old lady getting nasty. Thank GOD that wasn't the case. I threw up in my mouth a little bit just thinking about it. I could start a blog just from the shit I hear coming out of this house. This is just a taste....sad and comical all at once.