The Grandiosity of Assisted Living

I went to college to become an Occupational Therapist.  Mainly because I love LOVE helping people.  I don't know why, it's in my bones.  It's probably because I come from a family of Health Care people.  Nurses, mainly.

If I've ever told you anything about my work ethic, we all know... what work ethic?  Zero.  It's embarrassing and shameful that a person like me can really make Denny's have a hard time ticking.   There are two jobs, however, that I positively loved.  Enough to finish my shift and not call in sick once a week.  (I don't know why these jobs kept me around.  I must have the kavorka.)  The first one is a group home.  I LOVED these people.  (Not the workers, though.  Isn't there always one named Kathy The Smoker who hates the world, her ex husband and her daughter that won't move out of the house at age 37?)  One of the residents was always yelling.  HI KIERAAAAA.  MAYBE DA NEXT TIME I CAN SEE YOUR BABYYYYYYYYY.  WHO FREW DAT AT MEEE?  She was also very strong with behavioral issues.  In other words, she could snap your neck if you didn't watch your back.

Then there was the public masturbator.  This is no lie.  This one time I brought him to a baseball game.....

Then there was Doug, who was obsessive compulsive and obsessed over (including but not limited to) my dad, jack fm, me, other workers, anesthesia (my dad's a nurse anethsetist).

Job number two was an assisted living home.  I was a "dietary aide" aka lunch lady.  Then I was promoted (demoted?)  (moted?) to "residential aide" aka the dirty work.  Where I had to scrub just about anything and anyone in the building.  And give medicine!  and put on pressure stockings!  and lotion in unreachable places!  buuut ilovedit.

So maybe I like having "rewarding" jobs, but I think what it really boils down to is shower stools, double shower heads and floral bath towels.  It's like a taste of luxury.  Or is it a taste of what's to come?