It's nice to be missed.

The other week I caught this bug that was going around the city, where the entire weekend I heard people sniffling on the subway and at the public library, and although I was trying so hard to be so careful and I was washing my hands a ton, by the end of my shift on Sunday at my one client's with disabilities, I was pretty sure that I had gotten the bug...

I had been sniffling a little bit during the shift, but I thought that maybe that was because I had been dusting, but then just before I was leaving I got super tired, and I knew that my body had kicked into "fighting something off" mode.

Anyhow, I woke up the next day and called in sick, and then the next day was my day off, and then I did that phone consultation with a doctor thing and she advised me to take one more day off of work so that I wouldn't pass anything on to the older folks.

So, what with my normal days off intervening and the fact that I work my 40 hour workweek between 2 jobs and also that sometimes I have gaps off between days that I work at one particular place, it was something like almost a week before I showed up again at the resthome.

And, when I finally did, my one (older) (Tibetan) coworker asked me where I was and if everything was okay, and so did the one (Ghanaian-American) kitchen manager, and so did a few residents, including the one who I have a running joke with about being a hard drinker.

It was so nice to be missed like that, and even to have my absence just noticed; that kind of stuff simply never happened in academia.

A Spanish lesson, about "tea."

Last month at the resthome, I was talking with my one (Mexican) coworker in the kitchen who lets me speak Spanish with her.

I needed some tea, so I asked her, "Como se llama 'tea' en espanol?" ("How is 'tea' said in Spanish?").

"Te," she was like, and then after a pause, "...quila," and then she laughed brightly.

More of that resthome running joke...

...with that one (older) woman who's cool and who I joke with about being a drunkard:

The other week when I checked in with her at dinner if she wanted to go to the movie that night, she was like, "No, I want a drink, or two, or maybe three or four..."

Honoring Tibetan New Year.

Tibetan New Year was Monday, and my one (older) (Tibetan) coworker had taught me how to say an appropriate greeting in (Tibetan), so I made sure to text my (Tibetan) coworkers who I had numbers for and one former coworker, too.

My one (soft-spoken) (Tibetan) coworker had also been telling me how when you wake up that morning you eat sweet rice pudding with cashews and have some sweet wine, which some people crumble a cracker into, and then Tibetans in my city usually gather at a hall and have that food over again there, then they have a big feast and watch dancing by older people and younger people and spend the day there to celebrate.

I asked her if eating sweet things like that was auspicious, and she said yes, it was make to the upcoming year sweet.

So, on Monday not only did I text all of them an appropriate greeting in (Tibetan), but I added afterwards in (English), "I hope that this year is sweet for you!", and I added in a few emojis like a piece of candy and an ice cream sundae and a starburst lollipop.

The responses I got back were all like "Thanks" and stuff, though my one (soft-spoken) (Tibetan) coworker wrote back "thanks" in (Tibetan), to which I responded "it's nothing" in (Tibetan), to which she responded with a thumbs-up emoji.

When we were talking, I also told my one (soft-spoken) (Tibetan) coworker that our (hyperactive) (Tibetan) coworker with an inappropriate sense of humor had told me that last year at New Year's they played bingo, too, and she was like, "Yes, that too, sometimes we do that."

She also said she'd take pictures for me, to show me her culture.

Resident memory.

During Hanukkah at the resthome, I asked this one soft-spoken resident if he had any childhood memories of Hanukkah.

"Not really," he was like, "We didn't do much but light candles."

He then said that one year his older sister got her hair caught on fire, and they had to get a towel or a blanket or whatever and put it out.

The other week this resident passed away.

Concerning reactions to Bernie Sanders.

A ton of the resthome residents where I work are very well-educated, and almost all of them are lifelong Democrats and cool as all heck.

Last night, though, after the Nevada caucus, I overheard two of the very coolest ones talking, and both were expressing honest concerns to the other about Bernie Sanders.

"He's a zealot," one resident was like, who has a Ph.D. and nice scarves and is very keyed-in and with it.

"Yes, he is a zealot," the other resident was like, who's a retired school nurse with an edgy taste in movies.  "And such grandiose plans, how is going to pay for them all?"

Both hate Trump, too, and think that a second term of his would be devastating.

Client humor (2 of 2): Breakdown.

The other week, my one client with disabilities all of a sudden got all teary and weird like she couldn't even talk, and I was just standing there like "What is going on?", and she was like, "I never told you this before, but I had a..., I had a..., I had a... forcible..."

And then she held up her smartphone and was like, "Update!", and she started laughing maniacally.