In my line of work, confidentiality is the rule. This leads to a lot of stressful nights for me trying to work out the events of the day (or days) and me being a grouchy wife for my poor husband. I tend to talk to myself as I drive down the road hoping that the car seat next to me is sympathetic (the jury is still out, its looks like a judgmental bastard). The good thing about the technological advances of the 21st century is that I at least don't look like the schizo that I am, due to Bluetooth technology. ("Mommy, that lady is talking to herself! Oh honey don't worry, she is talking to someone on her Bluetooth!")  No, I'm talking to myself.

I also tend to listen to moody, sad, depressing music. This helps IMMENSELY. Let me tell you, there is nothing like a good break up song when you are already sad to make for a happy wife walking in the front door. 

So, I decided I better start writing things down. Of course none of this will be actually what I am dealing with, that would get me fired in a New York Minute. But as much as possible, through combining stories and name/place/time changes I hope to be able to express my life and emotions here and to somehow lessen the pain of what I do. What do I do? I work with older adults who are unable to care for themselves. People who have dementia, or Alzheimer's, or a myriad of other issues and are in need of some assistance. It's not always bad, but when it's bad, its bad. But sometimes it's GREAT. I'll share those times too. Those are the times that get me through, that keep me going. I love the elderly, there are a national treasure and we do not respect them as we should in this country. I hope, through my little stories, to impart some of this love and caring to you.  

Thanks for reading. I'll be back soon.