For the herd of flying cows that just took a diarrheic dump all over my week.

Faah Uck what a work week.

Started out Tuesday and Wednesday training the latest recruit, a young lass employed by the Administrator because half of her wage would be paid by an outside agency. Yep. She has already proved that the criteria of “Ability to understand written and verbal directions” in the job prerequisite as a load of waffle by returning every single item of personal clothing to the wrong rooms, closets and drawers. You can imagine the uproar the next day when said clothing was discovered by the aides and the residents. Yep. Can’t wait to hear the complaints at their next Residents Council meeting. I believe she just needs a more supervised work position; in the laundry department you are largely left unsupervised [which I adore] so maybe she’ll be put in the dietary department. One can only bloody hope uh.

Then Thursday consisted of lots and lots of hours being the BeautyShopTowelBitch. Those hairdressers love the ground I run on. I get Blessed A LOT by the three of them. Makes me wonder if "their" blessings count towards anything. Hmm.

Ended the week with me catching up on the night-shifts left-over laundry with the grand finale of me exploding old Bob’s feather pillow in the washing machine. I swear you’d have thought I had shot-gunned shelled thirty of the flying bastids. I had feathers every. bloody. where. Not the most fun I’ve had.

But.

That was then, this is now.

And the NOW consists of sleeping in for two days straight…waayhay life has improved already.

And with this improvement I’ll let yers into a self-thought.

I’m a crappy daughter.

No…No. There’s no need to placate or disagree with me here.

I really am.

I have not actually spoken to my parents in a few months…if I worked it out it’d probably be more like five or six, maybe seven. Admittedly I have left a couple of messages on their answering machine, so I can at least say to myself I’ve attempted to make contact. And before the conclusion-jumpers amongst yers leap at the thought this non-communication is because of a rift or some other drama between us. This is not the case. That would never be the case…*smile*

I’m just a really crappy daughter AND sibling.

But, they know this.

As each week goes by I tell myself I must ring me bloody parents, then I’m either not feeling like it for numerous reasons or I’m a tad home-sicky or if I’m being honest with myself I’m not wanting to “hear” how much closer my Mum has crept towards Alzheimer’s.

But! Tonight I’ll be making a flurry of home-calls to alleviate not only my crappiness but my Mums worries. Plus I’ll get a few hours of…uhm… I want to say normalcy but then I’d want to say there is nothing normal about my family. HaHa.

But it’s a good abnormality.