Addiction of a resthome coworker.

One of my coworkers at the resthome is this (Mexican) (Latina) woman, who has a heavy accent and is somehow both calm and always going around doing work since she can't sit down.

The other week we were talking over the staff meal, and she said that she and her husband have a TV but no cable, and mostly she just reads, sometimes till 3 or 4 in the morning if a book is good.

When I asked her about what kind of books, she said mysteries, and a lot of "true stories," by which she meant "true crime," and she said that she's read so much, that sometimes she picks up and starts a book, only to get a few pages in and realize that she read it years ago.

"Have you read Helter Skelter about the Manson Family?", I was like, and when she was confused, I was like, "Charles Manson was the hippie killer, it's a big thick book," and all of a sudden it was like a light went off, and she was like, "Oh, yeesssss..."

I then asked about cult memoirs, and she didn't read them, so I began wondering if the "serial killers" - "cults" - "weird sex" - "historical Jesus" cluster of interests held out, since I've noticed that if someone likes one of those interests, they usually like a few others if not all.

Then, she began telling me about books she reads, that says everything that the Catholic church teachers isn't true, and I realized that the cluster held.

Later, I was talking with another coworker, and she said that one time our one (Mexican) (Latina) coworker was sitting in the lobby reading a book during downtime from her job, and a call came in over the intercom and she jumped up out of her seat, she was so surprised.

"That book was so good!", she told our other coworker, our other coworker reported to me.

Interpersonal actions are getting a bit weird, sometimes.

Since I've become a candidate, interpersonal reactions have gotten a bit weird at times.

When someone introduces me to someone, the person seems a bit blank, like they don't know what to say or talk about at first.

I suppose this is what being a celebrity is like.

Only, when they talk, if they open up, they both want me to viscerally respond to them in a perfectly responsive way, even more than a spouse or a lover would, and still somehow be myself and an individual who's spontaneous and not predetermined by the needs of the voters.

It's so weird.   Such conflicting needs, and so much projection.

Activity levels of my one new job.

My one new job at the resthome has me running around a lot, though there's a few periods of dead time each day where you can sit around and read and whatnot and dick around with your phone, so long as nobody doesn't need any help.

What I've noticed, though, is that even if I'm supertired by the end of a shift, a lot of times I'll get home, eat, and then get a second wind where I can't get to bed right away, no matter how tired I was earlier.

I'm going to have to figure this out.  Since I work second shift, it's important that I be able to do that, so I can be up relatively early the next day and knock on doors for an hour or two for my campaign before work.

Instead, I stay up a bit, and then the next day I wake up and my legs are sore and I just feel bonetired and I want to go to sleep for another hour or two.

The one guy who helped me train said that he lost forty pounds since he got this job a few years ago, and I can see how I might, too.

That'd definitely be a plus side, to keep me in shape so I look good in front of the voters.

"Me, a candidate."

Public transportation is expensive.

Public transportation is cheaper than cars, but it's gotten pretty ridiculous since I've moved to the city, with the cost up by about 20%, even though wages have pretty much remained flat.

So, a monthly pass is around what it costs for an eighth of my rent (and rent already takes up more than half my income).

Between that and gas and electricity and rent going up, it really is a noticeable increase in cost-of-living.

And, I don't think the Republican tax bill did shit for me, or for most other people who are experiencing the same thing.

In a way, it's good for my candidacy, since it makes people want shit to work for them more.

Passover at the resthome.

So, there was a huge Passover celebration at the one resthome I've begun working at, with like 150 people in both dining rooms, and that included a ton of guests.

During a lull after dinner and before the last 2 cups of wine, I was walking around and checking on residents to see if they needed anything, and while I was doing that, I said hello to a few adult daughters of one resident as I was going by them.

"How are you doing?", one was like to me.

"Good!", I was like.  "Except, I have Dayenu stuck in my head."

(Dayenu means something like 'enough for us,' and it's this really catchy song of gratitude that they sing, with each verse enumerating a miracle or something like that, and the chorus saying about each single miracle that just one would have been "enough for us.")

"That's the way it always is," the other daughter replied.  "It's like, 'Dayenu, already!'"

Also, like midway through the service, the one Balkan Dining Hall Manager was running around in the hallway, and I asked her if I could help her with anything, and she was like, "I dropped my cigarettes, if I don't get a cigarette, I'm going to kill someone!".

So, later I was joking to people, was that part of the Seder, or was that just her?

Since, maybe the Israelites dropped their cigarettes when they fled, or maybe it was commemoration of a threat of the Pharoah to his slaves at court, "If I don't get a cigarette, I'm going to kill someone!".

Besides all of that, we got a really nice staff meal that's what the residents eat, since they're worried about us bringing in any yeast to the place, even though most of the residents are pretty non-observant.

That night, the head nursing aide wandered into the office, though, and she was eating from a bag of Doritos.

I looked at it but didn't say anything.  Maybe she brought it with her, or maybe it was from a vending machine in the laundry room that they had forgotten to clear out.  In either case, it was probably better to just not notice and say anything.

Crack of a resthome resident.

The other week like a half hour before dinner, I was in the elevator with this one resthome resident in a wheelchair who usually goes down to dinner a bit early, and this other resthome resident who's always usually a bit late stepped in to the elevator with us.

"You heading down to dinner this early?!", I was like.

"No," he was like, "I'm going out right now, for some neighborhood business."

"Neighborhood business?", the one resident in the wheelchair I was pushing was like.  "[The other guy's first name], it sounds like you're going outside for a drug deal."

A turn-of-phrase by my one (lesbian) coworker.

At my one healthcare aide job, one of my coworkers is (lesbian) and a (pagan) to boot, and she used to work in some kind of doctor's office years ago, before she got into the work situation she's in now along with me and another aide.

The other week when me and her were changing shifts, we started talking about Passover, and she mentioned how the doctor who she used to work for was Jewish, and how they had to clean out the entire office fridge and whatnot for yeast during Passover, and that that entire week they couldn't bring any food in, so he used to pay for all of the non-Jewish office staff to go out to eat in nearby restaurants, since it would be tough for them to figure out what food to bring in and then you'd have to check it anyways and on top of all that it wasn't even their holiday, anyway.

"And at that time I was out of the broom closet...", she was like, when she started to say how cool it was of the doctor to buy her lunch out.

She also said that because people there worked ten hour shifts, there was one place where people kept snacks to eat when they were super hungry, and it was kind of an open secret that the doctor knew about but didn't want to know about.

Also also, she said that she found it beautiful, that to commemorate ancestral suffering, people went through suffering themselves, in an act of unity and remembrance.

"I'm not glad that they suffered," she was like, "But it's wonderful to remember the suffering of others like that, so it's not forgotten."

. . .

I love second-wave feminists.