For those of you impressed with my scary, demanding job, let me just say that I am currently blogging from work. I have filed everything which can be filed, checked recycle bins, rooms, linen closets and more, and am settling down till the next room check. Which is in eight minutes. Dang it! After this point (1:30-ish), the morning drags till about 5:30 AM. I've nearly finished a Jodi Picault book in two nights reading here. So things speed along for a bit, then slow down. There's one last burst of insanity just before I leave, as everyone is getting up, being weighed and taking vitals.
There's another group of women upstairs here, further along, and I check their floor every couple of hours. Can I just tell you I get spooked every time I do? The lights are either all out or dim. Everything's terribly quiet. So about halfway around the floor I get the heebyjeebies. Walking faster and faster to the door and the stairs. I hate that.
Oop! Room check. Hold on please ...
Okay, seriously. Do any of you know how to make a sneaker stop squeaking? At size 11, I can't call my shoes little, but they are cute and comfortable. And tonight they're squeaking worse than before. Argh! Girls toss and turn as I enter the room. It doesn't help any, either, that my mother hips find walls and furniture in the dark, making their own noises. And I feel like I'm spying on my teenager.
I really am off to make rounds now, but this time the rounds of y'all's blogs. See you in a bit!
Until I write again ...