Isn't it funny?

I have so many blogposts about my coworkers and my jobs, and they're just happy and full of joy.

That shit certainly wasn't the case, when I was working in academia.

"Good decision," not to pursue any tenure-track academic work.

A funny exchange at the resthome: New resident.

The other week I was escorting a guy who had moved in a few weeks earlier down to dinner in the elevator, and this one lady who's lived there for a while was with us in the elevator, so I asked them if they had met each other like I've been doing with him, to make sure he gets to know everyone.

"No, we haven't met," the woman was like, and they introduced themselves.

Then, she was like, "Are you new?".

"No," he was like, "I'm old."

"Well," she was like, "You certainly are fresh."

. . .

My one (Mexican) coworker was with us in the elevator as an escort to the woman, and we both laughed at the exchange, it flowed so fast and funny.

"People pay for comedy like this," I told her.

Vacation of a (Mongolian) resthome coworker.

One woman who works at the resthome is from Mongolia.

She actually doesn't work for the resthome per se, but is instead extra help who comes in to help this one couple who need it, an arrangement that some people do if they need services above and beyond standard assisting living services.  So, I guess she really isn't my coworker, but I like to think of her as one, though now that I think of it, I don't think of all the private aides that way (I wonder why I do that?  Could it be related to how much I vibe with someone).

Anyhow, my one (Mongolian) coworker is maybe in her mid-50s and bigger boned, and she's always smiling and radiates positive energy, though she tends to be on the quiet side.

And, I didn't see her for the longest while, then a few weeks ago, I finally saw her again, and I asked her how she was.

"Good," she was like.  "I was on vacation."

"Did you go back to Mongolia?", I was like.

"Yes," she was like, "Forty-five days."

"That's awesome!", I was like.  "I hope you did something special?".

"Oh yes," she was like, smiling.  "I drank mare's milk and rode horses."

. . .

I fucking *love* Mongolians.  Such bad-ass people, and so nice.  To think she went from riding horses, to back to assisted living.  It boggles the mind, but is so awesome that it happens. 

Whenever I've met Mongolians, I get such positive vibes from them.  It must be something about the culture.

A conversation with a resthome resident about health insurance.

The other day I was visiting with the one resthome resident who has a dark sense of humor, and he asked me what was new, so I told him about how I had gone online and picked my health insurance plan for next year.

"Is it good?", he was like.  "What does it cover?".

He used to work in business and tends to be interested in stuff like that, so since he wasn't really too familiar with the details of the Affordable Care Act, I roughly told him about the essential benefits concept of the Silver-level plans.

"So if I took an axe and split your head open, would it cover that?", he was like.

. . .

[. . .]

Another life story tidbit about that same resthome resident.

That one same resthome resident who grew up in the German-speaking part of Czechoslovakia used to go dance in coffee houses back when she was younger - waltz, foxtrot, everything, she said.

Also, that's how you met guys, and her mother would always try to go with her, so she had to come up with excuses and ways to go there by herself, like making up a story and then going to the coffee house or like ditching her mom and slipping away and then heading there, she said.

Life story tidbit of one resthome resident.

One of the resthome residents who I work with grew up in a German-speaking part of Czechoslovakia, and married a Hungarian.

She had mentioned that she did Hungarian cooking, and I always just assumed that she learned it because of her husband.

As it turns out, she just really likes Hungarian cooking, and she had learned it growing up before she met him, alongside all of the Czech stuff she knew.

"They're very different," she was like.