That I would be posting more. Hah!! When it takes 1.5+ hours to fill out a job application, plus juggling medical stuff (Jack), house stuff ('nuff said about my moving in to the kitchen) and watching the grass grow by leaps and bounds...
Job searching is still on-going. I had a screening interview at Fred Meyer's this week. Hopefully, I'll be forwarded on to the manager. I could handle doing cashier--although I admit I haven't done anything with money since I was seasonal at the long-defunct Drug Emporium, probably 16 years ago and a meh tenure at Fabricland. The sad thing is this: job applications usually ask for either your last four employment ventures or the last ten years. I have had longevity and retail experience but it is now getting to the point where I can't add those.
Is working for FM, or, for that matter, any thing other than what I spent $1000's on school for, defeatist? Nah. I for one cannot take much more day-time television and I really want to be out of my folks house. A job is a job.
In other news...
Our yard here is in need of livestock misplacement. The lawnmower starts for about .005 seconds and out it goes. The yard is too much for merely a weed-whacker, so I feel defeated. Why me? Because without BIL Greg to help out, I'm on my own. Seriously, can anyone see my dad or mom lugging about a weed whacker? I don't. Yet another thing that falls on to my shoulders. I tell you, if I were being paid for this, life would be swell.
Animals are doing fine. Emmi has decided that she needs to not only lick the bejesus out of my hand, but knaw on it as well. Squatch already knaws. Skye comes to me anywhere between 3:30am and 10am to go out and she doesn't always make it (you know who cleans that up). But I will cut Skye some slack. We almost thought we were going to lose that canine in March when it looked 'drunken' doggy or she'd had a stroke. It was something older dogs get (vestibular something or other) that if I had to describe it, is inner ear infection with sea-sickness. She's fine and takes half a pain pill per day for arthritis in her hips. But baby-dog is now 15 and officially the oldest in house. Where does a 15 year old dog sleep? Anywhere she wishes.
Jack has been better. We are trying to find pain control that does not involve narcotics. Surely, there is something he can use for pain that doesn't involve Oxycodone. Haven't found it yet. It knocks him out so a majority of the day is sleeping. Which is good in some ways because he can't hear the crap the rest of us are subjected to on TV. (Note: I swear I am going build my dad something with flips, levers, dials, buzzers, buttons, flashing lights...so he'll relinquish the tv controller and telephone).
Other than that...nothing new. off to finish my Macy's application. Spatula makeup and stilletos (hell no) here I hope to not come.
Mindy, pooper scooper patrol.
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