Right. I'd rather not discuss it. Except obviously I'm going to be taking the demon-eyed one saying AKJGHA;DKJFGHA;K to the camera, because he's perfect for Mal.
Mal, on the other hand, is not perfect. This morning he got pissed off because I wouldn't give him a cotton ball (they don't grow on trees, you know), and stole my makeup brush from the counter when I turned my head. I had to chase him through the bedroom to get it back, which I'm sure my downstairs neighbor appreciated, as it was 5 am. Lately, too, he's taken to wiggling the drain plug up out of the sink, so that when I get home, I find a gooey, hairy bathroom sink thing laying on the carpet, and Mal glaring at me from under the table. Man, he needs a demon-eyed friend, stat. I'm hoping Mal will teach him how to be a good boy, so as not to risk my
Soon, however, I will be on the receiving end of 5 am neighbor karma I'm sure, as in a fit of mania the other day, I allowed a friend with even worse credit than me who is buying a $300,000 house omgwtf to talk me into researching mortgages & that kind of thing. Holy god. That on top of school on top of all the changes going on at work should really improve my mood, as apparently not being completely stressed out with too much to do renders me inert. Rather be stressed out, truthfully. But yes, those bloody fools want to lend me money, which validates my right living of late, and also my uncanny skill with Jedi mind control. Condo, here we come!
Work, the unit, crazy days. Suddenly it occurred to the uppers that perhaps our low retention rates could be explained by (1) two units run by one staff (2) two COMPLETELY DIFFERENT units run by one staff (3) two COMPLETELY DIFFERENT critical care units run by one staff (4) who get two weeks of training, where other critical care nurses in the hospital get 13 weeks of training, because of some budget blackhole we fell into that was oncology related (5) all this is stressful for the nurses, who want to give competent care but are not prepared to do so, so they leave (6) not good. In fact, sub-optimal, as the docs say, or less than fabulous, as the nurses say. So we're splitting up the units and redistributing the staff and ai, new education plans, and the 9th floor is becoming the 10th floor and our PCU will now be run by someone else entirely, who went dead white when she heard the news, because she and her nurses have no critical care training whatsoever either.
In short, whee. Also, dudes, I'm going to have to get ICU training. Well, what the hell. What's a few more machines and alarms and hoses and tubes and pipes, among friends?
Chicago, next week, \o/
Also, my family, whom I miss. Mom asked why she couldn't read my journal anymore, and I explained the friendslock. Looks like I'm going to be setting her up with an account when I get there on Tues. Hee! She told me, "I don't really read the stories, though. Sorry."
It's cool, mom. ♥