Resthome training.

Like 3 or 4 weeks ago, we had a training at the resthome, on the nature of hospice, since sometimes there's hospice staff who come in to work with people.

And, at one point, the hospice worker was saying that if someone says that they see something, you don't try to convince them otherwise, but just roll with it, and be like, "Yes, that's your aunt there, but I'm Mary, and I'm here to take your blood pressure."

And, then she added that that happens so much, that she herself thinks that there's something that can happen with spirits visiting.

And, I had gotten there late and was sitting away from the big table where everybody else was sitting at, and when the hospice worker said that, I could see my one (Tibetan) coworker with an inappropriate sense of humor start to nod along.

Later, the hospice worker asked who has cried when working with people, and only 3 higher-ups raised their hands, but then the hospice worker was like, "Really?!", and then like over half the people there timidly put their hands in the air.

Later later, my one (Tibetan) coworker who was born in Nepal turned around and smacked my foot, since I had my legs crossed and my foot was sticking out about a foot behind her right hand.

Then, she grabbed a box of cream cheese-frosted mini-bundt cakes that were sitting on the table, and she offered me some.

"Here," she was like.

And, I told her that she knows me and had read my mind, since I had been wanting some ever since I got there and saw them.

"I know," she was like.

Odd afterwards.

That very night that I made my resthome semi-announcement that I'm thinking of leaving and moving away from the city because of bad vibes and mounting urban problems, my trip home was very telling.

First off, I bumped into the one (older) (black) (bald) (fresh-faced) public transportation worker that I know, and since my train wasn't coming for another ten minutes, I asked him if he had noticed anything, lately.

He said that they usually get 7-8 track jumpers a year on the line that he works on - like, people who jump on the tracks to kill themselves - but, in the past 2 weeks, they had gotten *three*.

Then, on the train home, it was a bit crowded because they weren't running enough trains, and like five stops before I got home, there was this (thin) (older middle-aged) (dark-skinned black) (homeless guy) who got on the train, sat down, and pulled his feet out of shoes and just rested his feet on top of his sneakers all the way the rest of the ride until I got off the train to go home, and probably afterwards, too.

Then, when I was bicycling my short hop home from the stop, I biked past this one park on my route like I always do, and by the corner of the park building on the street side there were two cars pulled up and like 8-10 (like 20s-ish) (black) people hanging out and milling around the open doors, even though nearby bars were shut up for the night and seemed to have been for a long time.

Never seen that before.

I couldn't see exactly what they were doing, but I also wasn't trying to look, either.

Resthome semi-announcement.

Since I've finally seen that enough writing is on the wall, I thought it best to tell my one (Filipina) supervisor that it's not totally set, but I'm leaning towards moving away from the city by winter, for safety's sake.

And, she wasn't surprised, since she's noticed and heard things, too, and she thinks that it's going to take at least a few years for things to start settling down and getting back to normal again.

And, the one (older) (Togolese) kitchen worker wasn't surprised, either, since she thinks the city nowadays is "strange."

Also also, the one (older) (white) (gay) front desk worker was saying that he's noticed homelessness getting really bad too; he can either have a long walk home at night or take the subway train a couple of short stops south, and he says down at the south end of the stop he gets off at, this year there's been a homeless encampment that never used to be there, and also on his way home at night if he walks, there's been this other new homeless encampment at this one corner, where at night sometimes, too, you can see people sleeping in a cellar staircase of a nearby business.

Also also also, my one (Tibetan) coworker with an inappropriate sense of humor said "No!" when I told her that I was thinking of leaving, and she said that I can always move in with her.

Later that night, I talked with her more about the increasing crime in the city, and I said that it's a problem for me because I don't believe in reincarnation, so I'm more afraid of death.

"That is a problem," she was like.

I then asked her what I would come back as, if I reincarnated.

"My husband," she was like.

"Is that a reward or a punishment?', I was like.

"Reward," she was like.

Bells and whistles.

There's so many bells and whistles on the one popular language-learning app that I downloaded, that I almost feel like I'm playing the slots at a suburban casino that I went to one time with my one art school colleague who wears (women's) clothes.

One of the things that they do, too, is put you in a league against 30 other app users, to see who can get the most language-learning points for a week and then advance to the next league, and as you advance up the ranks, you can put little icons by your avatar, like a flexing arm muscle or a trophy or whatnot.

They also let you put the flag of the country whose language you're learning, but I was saving it, and as soon as I got to #1 for the first time ever the other night, I put the little (Romanian) flag icon by my avatar, as an all like "Eat that, f*ckers!" kind of thing, so that all the other people that I was competing against would have to look at the (Romanian) flag, and these are people who are all around the entire world, too.

Resthome schtick.

A month or so ago at the resthome, my one (Tibetan) coworker with an inappropriate sense of humor and I were joking about getting married again.

So, I ended up drawing her a bouquet of flowers on a scrap of note paper, and giving them to her.

Resthome coworker moment: Surprise.

Last month at the resthome, I was going to the stairwell to head up to our office, and my one (newer) (Filipina) coworker was opening the door just as I was coming in.

I did a mock joke like I got knocked backwards and was like, "That's a nice way to treat a person!", but she seemed like her head was elsewhere, but happy, and was like, "I have something to show you," and she pulled up her sleeve and pointed to her left upper arm.

And, after I gave her a confused look, she was like, "I got the shot, I wanted you to know."

. . .

(Because of past bad vaccine reactions, she was holding off on getting the Covid vaccine, and after the delta variant started emerging, I told her that she should maybe talk again with a doctor and reconsider the risk calculus, since it was starting to get dangerous again, and I didn't want anything to happen to her.)

Taco day.

A few weeks ago when I was at the one academic library that finally opened up to the public again, I was getting ready to leave and I was walking through this one cathedral ceiling-like foyer area, and it seemed a bit gray, so I thought that it must have been the dusk or tinted windows or something.

But, I get outside, and it's this huge stormfront coming in.

So, I ended up walking up a few blocks and then ducking into this one (new) (upscale) (Mexican) taco place, and texting my one computer science college acquaintance who lives close by, to let him know that catching a drink outside like we had planned for after the library was out, but I was there.

I'm not too huge a fan of tacos, but I have to admit, their flank steak taco there was amazing. All fatty and tasty and with the best juice, and with these breaded fried onions on top, that somehow worked.

And, they had tasty vegetarian chicharrones, too, with the lime and some hot sauce that you could put on top of them. And that was a free appetizer!