Day 3: Tired

Half-awake and really hating the part of my job that has me getting up at 4:30 three mornings a week... And to think that when I started this school year I was excited because I had all "after school" shifts.

I was probably tempting fate.

Updating

I need to get a new book on tape from the library. It is not sane to listen to the same book on tape three or four times in a row, just to avoid crappy radio stations. It's just not.

My brother's bike is very uncomfortable. I think I'm going to resort to buying a new bike, however wasteful it is. I think my free money should be here soon, and surprisingly I haven't spent it all yet. I've wanted a bike for a few years, so that's on the list. I've also got a bridesmaid's dress to pay for, and I've got my eye on a camera. It is brown and came recommended.

Tuesdays suck for me because therapy at my first house is over before noon and my second house starts after five. That leaves a lot of free time in the middle wherein I can't seem to get anything done. Unless you count surfing the Internet and playing Lego Star Wars. Today was especially terrible because when I drove the forty-five minutes to get to house number two, I was told they were cancelling therapy. Thanks, dude. You just wasted my evening. Not to mention my money. I will get paid for the travel time, but it doesn't exactly even out. He owes me two dollars.

I sent off a surprise present last week and it was received today. I like sending people stuff.

I almost forgot! On the drive to the house-that-wasn't, I got a call from T's mom (see yesterday's post) about Mr. Farmer. Apparently Mr. Farmer has had a talking to by more than a few people about the proper way to treat strangers, which warms my heart a little. I hope this is the end of it. Mom asked if I was too traumatized to go with them on their Chicago trip. I told her I would probably be fine, just as long as she was sure Mr. Farmer wasn't invited.

Yesterday was my third anniversary. The day started with an early morning truck backing into the driver's side of my parked car (both doors are damaged) and ended with my getting reamed by Mr. Farmer. (And not in the sexy way.) Even if there had been a canoe involved, I'm not sure it could have gotten worse.

Worth

At my last house on my long day, I told him I had to leave and he ran up to give me a hug. He said, "Awwwww! When are you coming back?"

Yeah, that's pretty great, isn't it?

Now, With Updates!

- Dad's surgery went fine, he came back home on Wednesday and walked around grumping about things. So he's good as new, hooray! And most of the parts of his brain are getting adequate blood flow!

- I've got my new house tonight, the house with the little girl who can't talk. It makes me nervous. Dad has a habit (totally understandable but no less freaky for that) of hovering when therapy is going on. Therapy consists of a lot of mimickry of the nonsense sounds she makes, which is kind of on this side of embarassing to do with an audience. She's also very climby, which makes a person tired. I can only sling around a forty pound moving sack of potatoes for about a half an hour at a time without getting too winded to speak. Or mimic nonsense sounds, rather.

- The amount of time I spend driving and money on gas is making me pretty seriously unhappy lately. I want a job I don't have to drive for, with steady and normal hours. They usually don't hire for aides at schools unless it's the beginning of the school year, though, so I've got a wait ahead of me.

- I'm excited to go to a conference for autism at the beginning of May in Appleton. Not the least of which because I'll be getting paid for it.

- Mom is finishing up my taxes as I type. Way to wait until the last second, Mom! Also: Way to bitch about your free and painless tax preparation, Sunny!

Round and Round

I went shopping on Friday night after work and ran into an old friend's mom. That's always awkward. Espeicially when the old friend is one that I no longer speak to because he treats me like dirt when we do talk and I don't think I deserve that.

It's one of those situations where I feel compelled to send him an email every year or so (hmm, coming up on that time of year, come to think of it!) and when he gets it he feels compelled to tell me why I'm worthless and heartless and a low-down-rotten excuse for a person. It's way fun. It's like this though, I can't seem to give up on it. I think I have an imbalance somewhere. Called optimism. Plus, I've been known to get nostalgic when looking at old underwear, so you can imagine how I feel about old friends.

(If Bruce reads this, he will be sitting inside of his monitor by now, using every bit of the force of his will to tell me not to email this guy. He knows.)

That's not where I meant to go with this post, but there it landed. Where I meant to go with this post was, "I bought a pair of shoes on Friday and the silly salesgirl put them in a seperate bag from the board game I bought and then didn't give the bag to me. So I had shoes that I purchased festering in Green Bay over Friday night, and I'm lucky that I had to work there again on Saturday or I would have had to waste a bunch of gas for them." Much shorter post.

I should also mention that after working with the new kid on Saturday (and with two new people, as well), I was feeling pretty scared and unsure of myself. After talking with some friends and marinating in it for a while, I realize that I wasn't scared that I couldn't do it so much as I was insecure about how the new girls saw me. Which won't be helped by me having a lead therapist there on Tuesday, it would probably only make it worse. I'm sure I'll be fine. New houses just make me nervous, new people make me nervous, new kids make me nervous, and this new kid is non-verbal which makes me very nervous. The best way to cure all of that (for me) is to dive in.

Pizza Pizza

I'm all cranky and down on myself lately. Gah.

When we did this picture a few weeks ago, I was SO PROUD of him for not lining up the toppings in any particular way when he glued them on. It's the little things.

New House, First Day

Well, today is my first time at the new house (the house I picked up without wanting to a week ago Friday) and as usual, I'm kind of terrified.  Luckily, E is not supposed to be violent, which was a major reason I was scared of the last new place when I started working there.

I've also had some dreams this weekend about working with her, dreams where I had gotten her to start communicating and expressing herself better.  Naturally, that makes me feel pretty good about the way things will go.  I almost want to tell her dad that, to maybe make him feel as hopeful as I do right now, but I have a feeling "crazy person who thinks she's psychic will be working with your kid" won't reassure him much.  

She really is sweet.  I'm not worried about her so much as I'm worried about training under the lady I'll be training with.  She's a little scary-in-your-face.  My boss called her "kind of pushy".  Yep, that's about right.  Hopefully I can just sit back and observe today.  Cross your fingers for me.

Elephant

One time a few months ago at work, I was going through the list of animals what make noises and asking, "What does a _______ say?" when I accidentally asked what an elephant says. Of course I had to follow through, although I pity the elephant that sounds like the noise I made.

When I was at their house last week, Steve asked his little boy what sound a rabbit makes. When he got a confused look on his face, Steve said, "Buck buck bock," ala the Cadbury bunny. You know, I'm easily amused sometimes.

So I need new shoes. I'm leaning towards getting Crocs again, because I know they fit and they are comfortable and I've actually worn this pair out, which says to me I like them. Plus they come in awesome fun colors.

Awesome fun colors which make most people want to gag, I think. Oh well.

Tonight Tonight

Do you like my new picture? I do.

Lisa had to bail on our walk tonight, but luckily just as I was losing hope my brother showed up. We took a lovely long walk to main street and back around on Green Bay Street. I talked to him about (what else lately?) work, and shared some of my very funny stories. I'll have to share some of them here sometime soon.

I'm kind of lonely tonight.

I Only Write About Work

As usual, for the first hour or so after getting home, I can't pry the Linus off of me. He's like the Little Engine that Could of jumping into my lap. Well, sort of.

I sent some text messages from work to various people. I thought I'd share them:

"We're singing Rascal Flatts today. Therapy is fun."

"I ask: What happened to your nose? Answer: It got zits on it."

"My job sometimes feels less like a job, more like the most absurd babysitting gig ever."

This is the Quiet

I've finished the back of the sweater, and am on to the left front. That part should zoom by. And then it's the sleeves. And then the buttons (which I already bought and then showed to Steve one day and now cannot find for anything - argh). The buttons I'm going to use are very cute, they are wooden and have a tiny checkerboard pattern on them. Subtle and adorable.

I know that Rachel likes the color, because in one of the pictures she sent recently, Owen was wearing a shirt of that color. Phew.

On Friday I'll be working my first PNO. It's an event my company holds once a month in Appleton where the parents of kids with autism (who are in the program) come to a dinner we host. The therapists play with the kids and supervise while the parents get some time off to hang out with other people who are in the same boat. It's pretty cool, and I'm glad my schedule works out for it this month.

Oh, and after they screwed me out of 1/3 of my hours, I'd be nuts not to pick up the few I can get with fun stuff like this.

Home, Finally

Today was long, even though I slacked off as much as I could.

Slacking off is much different at this job. Not nearly as satisfying.

You know what's fun? Playing with tennis balls.

Pain

We are teaching the numbers from eleven to twenty at A's house. The method that seems to work best with him is a standard "show a card, ask 'What number?'" approach. Today I was on number seven of ten when instead of answering or ignoring me A said, "What number?" He has many communication issues, and uses echolalia, but... I swear, I'm not being paranoid - he said it in exactly the voice I would use if some crazy lady would not stop saying the same two words to me over and over and over and over again... this totally taunting voice... and I couldn't help laughing. He joined me, and then I couldn't stop, which adds fuel to my theory that he said it that way on purpose. I wouldn't put it past him. I mean, I doubt it, but... these kids are amazing. You just never know with them.

-

In other work news, today I was bouncing on a giant exercise ball and A tackled me laughing and flipped us over backwards into a bookcase. Luckily I broke our fall with my skull. Youch.

-

I finished that book I was listening to in the car, The Lion's Game? I think? (My lazy is showing again.) Anyway, it wasn't as bad as Along Came a Spider, during which I nearly pulled over to void my stomach at least ten times. That's the number of times the main character Alex Cross says, "Finally, something inside of me snapped!" and then gets all verbally up in somebody's face. Or punches a dude. Really, it was terrible. I was on tape eight when I realized I'd rather not have anything more to do with it, but there was only one tape remaining, so I went with it. At the end of chapter EIGHTY-SEVEN, a character said, "The end."

Then the narrator said, "Epilogue:" and I died. The end.

Teamwork!

I made up a new game with one of the kids I work with today. Let me tell you the story of how the day went, first. I arrived at the house at noon as scheduled, and we spent the first part of the day as usual: go fish, snack, attempt at a nap (he refused, but was nice about it).

Then we invented a new game, called "Teamwork". It involves one person holding open their mouth while the other person attempts to chuck a piece of cereal into it. We like it because it involves eating (we're both fond) and gross motor skills (I'm trying to teach).

There's a little problem, though. I'm worried about what the other therapist will say. I don't think the game is wrong, or that it isn't useful (basically any game can be made into therapy, especially if you teach manners and good language along with it), but because I don't think it'll appeal to her. She's not the type, you know?

I'm just hoping that his description of the game will be nonsensical enough to get me off the hook. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Day 11

I almost started a brawl last night. Yeah, that's something to make me ashamed for quite a while.

I might get a roommate instead of moving out. I'll talk to my landlord later.

I got most of my stuff straightened out for work, and actually called in my hours this week. I feel like a rockstar.

Luckily, my schedule is the same on Monday as it always has been, because my other days are all messed up. I need to double check when the people think I'm coming to their houses.

Can we say disjointed post? Stupid NaBloPoMo. Stupid posting when hungover. Stupid self.

Last month a stranger came up to someone I was with at the bar and asked her if she knew that I had "giant hooters". At least I'm not that stupid.

Day 9

I think I was supposed to send something in to work, some form? Something I had to sign? By today, but I didn't. Yep, that sucks.

I rented six movies, including Ratatouille, which I'm going to watch right now. As they put in a new driveway. Yeah, that's right. My landlord noticed I needed the potholes in my gravel fixed the month before I move out. Convenient, eh?

I'm contemplating buying my parent's house from them. So we'll see how that goes.

Restless

I'm starting at a new house tomorrow. New house, new kid. I'm a little nervous, because one of the girls I trained with used to work at this house, and I think it might be part of the reason she quit. I don't know, all I can do is keep an open mind and help as much as possible and ask the boss if I have any concerns. Shouldn't be too hard, as the boss is a girl I went to school with for 13 years. Actually, I called her tonight on the way home to tell her a story. Today I said to Huck, in all seriousness, "Use your words!"

Yeah, that's a work phrase. Doesn't so much work on the non-verbal.

I'm feeling restless because I don't think I've done much lately. I'm bored with my usual (watch TV alone, go to work, read alone, go to bed alone) and I don't know how to fix it. Or the ways I can think of to fix it aren't appealing right now. The easy way out would be to find someone to spend some time with, maybe even doing the same things I'm already doing, but I can't think of anybody I want to do those things with. And I can't have anybody over, because the house is trashed. But who wants to clean the house? It all seems like so much work. I think I'm falling into a funk. I'm lonely, I guess. People have had this problem for millenia. Maybe I should suck it up.

Day 6

I knew I almost forgot something.

Last week, I forgot to call in my hours in the automated system. Which is not a huge problem, because I will get paid for them. What I need to do in order to be paid is to email one of the people higher on the totem pole my hours so that she may enter them into the system manually. This means admitting my own incompetence, and I hate it very much. I'm avoiding it because I hate it. If I avoid it much longer, I might have problems getting paid. What am I, an ostrich?

In other news, I have to pack up Bruce's things in two 30lb. boxes and send them off with UPS to his new house. Which, as you might imagine, previous to a few months ago, was not something I ever pictured myself doing. Ever.

Rough Day?

Today is my "long day" at work. I leave the house around 7:30 and get back at 7:45. I'm getting used to it, and there's really no reason it should stress me out the way it does. I'm getting better, though. Last month, I worried about getting enough sleep on Sunday night all weekend long. Yesterday, I worried about it off and on from 3:30 until bedtime. Sigh. See? It's getting better.

I'm going to try to wean myself off of gas station cappuccino. It can't be good for me. But you see, there's a gas station right on my drive to work, and I always leave too early like a paranoid worrier and end up realizing I've got some time to kill just as I pass that place. Plus, it's good and I am weak.

We'll see how that goes, too. Lisa's been on this health kick, and although I hate being on a health kick, I think she's starting to drag me down with her. Damn you for wanting to be healthy! I spent $60 at the grocery store last Friday. Why is it that healthy food costs so much more? It's a conspiracy.

Work Research. Yeah, I Have the Best Job.