In fact I'm not that busy or tired at all but while I'm at home I'm always distracted by the cats, the coffee, and the highly caffeinated antics of those around me (not the cats, the people). Then I go to work and come home, and I'm tired and talk to people until I go to sleep.

Last night we were mixing up the letters in our names (anagrams) and my name made: "scramble belt? research war!" and "cerebral sewer-charm BLAST". That's my old name, pre-marriage. Donna's boyfriend refuses to acknowledge that...

It was really sunny and warm for like one day, and Donna and I took a walk with her new friend Susan.. we went to the Rose City Cemetery and kind of got stuck when it got dark and we couldn't find the exit. We're hoping she's going to adopt one or more of the kittens...

I don't know if it was my presence here or something else, but the entire first floor of the apartment is so clean now! You should have seen it before. Now you can actually walk through the room, and we can sit in the kitchen. My primary goal was to have a clean spot to drink coffee and read the paper on Sunday, and eat oatmeal in the morning, and that goal has been achieved. But now that the house is clean we can actually have people over to adopt the cats.

Work is good... I don't know if people constantly say good things about me because they're just sick of training new employees and hope they can flatter me into staying... sometimes the compliments seem excessive. Maybe the residents are just high on all their meds or something. But they're constantly telling me I'm doing such an amazing job, and I'm one of those "tiny girls who's actually really strong" (I like that one).

I had to call in sick the other day because I had a migraine.. my boss called back twenty minutes later. I thought she was going to be mad, but she just asked if everything was ok, and told me I was doing a really great job, and she'd see me tomorrow.

Yeah. I should write more specific things about work because it's really fascinating. It scares me having so much responsibility for people's well being. I watched Larry get his catheter changed as he writhed in pain. I must have looked pale or something because they kept asking me if I was ok. I said yeah, that I just felt bad for him... Larry was like, "Well it's good that you feel that.. some people feel nothing."