13. I don't know if I've ever written about this before, but I have this whole, late 50s/early 60s thing going on in my kitchen. I've been buying things that are aqua- and jadite-colored. All thanks to Ebay.
Last Friday, I was lying in bed, talking to baboo, when I happened to notice her at the end of the bed, crouched, pointed in my direction, her little butt wiggling as she prepared for attack.
She shook her head for a moment, dazed, and headed over to chew on Baboo's ankles while he shaved.
I went down to the juvenile detention center. I feel awkward being there during the holidays. I have to do something called a mental status exam, and ask someone how they're feeling, what's your mood? And, I mean, how are they supposed to respond? They wanted to be adults. They tried to be tough, and then the cold reality slaps them in the face: it's Christmas, they're kids, and they're in jail. My mood is low, thank you very much.
So now we just watch netflix, or listen to music from The Cloud. We also have cable, and wi-fi, so...I am beginning to understand while greater and greater proportions of Americans are becoming obese. And why adult footed pajamas are being sold on TV.
I'm an uncultured boob, I know. But at least I know myself. If I wanted to read, I'd buy a book.
|Part of the exercise room.|
Maybe it was the 2% raise I got, the first raise I've gotten after two years of service which, given that the cost of living rises around 3% each year, is essentially a pay cut from an already abysmal salary. This after giving me a stellar annual review. 2% is the maximum amount you can get.
Maybe it was my "Christmas bonus," which was one of those huge coupon books they use to force me to get my students to sell when I was a teacher. Eventually, even the most interesting jobs get old if you feel like you're not valued, and are paid the same as a first year school teacher despite having three masters degrees in your field.