These are a few…

Seriously people, there is nothing better then the first warm day, a good book, a close by park and Bob Dylan on my ipod.

The Mole Men

Adrianne didn’t believe me about the mole men, but they’re real. We had two large brown paper bags filled with bottles from the party we had last week. We had toyed with the idea of bringing them back to the liquor store across the street for money, but the idea of sorting through the mess and putting all the bottles into six packs was unappealing. We decided instead to put them out on garbage night.

“Just wait,” I told her, “all the bottles will be gone by morning. The mole men take them at night and return them for the bottle exchange.”

Less then eight hours later when I left for my 7 am shift, all the bottles were gone. Mole men strike again.

Why Is This A Toy?

I have what some might call an irrational fear of zombies. It’s true, when making the decision to move to Boston the thought of the undead coming back to life weighed heavy on my mind. “There would be a lot more zombies in Boston because it’s an older city.” I use to think at night while laying in my bed in Rochester. The zombies in Boston would also be more patriotic then Minnesota zombies. Say what you will, but I might have problems putting a bullet in the un-dead head of one of our fore-fathers.

I admitted this fear to Steve and have only been met with ridicule. “You live on the top floor of a house; you would hear the dragging sound of zombies as they made their way up the stair. They are so slow, why would you ever be afraid?” Then last week he sent me this picture.


WHY IN GOD’S NAME WOULD YOU WANT YOUR CHILDREN TO PLAY WITH THE UNDEAD?

Say what you will but I always have one ear open for the sound of dragging feet.

A Late Post

I meant to post this a few days ago but I never got around to it.

I had a day off for the first time in awhile. Not really a day off due to the fact that I was going on to night shifts the next night, but all in all it was a day to catch up on sleep and everything that never gets done when I work. I decided to start the day with a run, have a nice big breakfast and do my laundry before I went grocery shopping.

“Maybe,” I thought “I’ll put a load in and then make breakfast and be super efficient!” I was running, something I hadn’t done in the last few months. I slowed down as I neared my street. A man in his pajamas and holding a toothbrush appeared before me.

“Wow, there she goes!” he exclaimed. I looked across to what he was referring to. It turns out the laundry matt across the street from my house had started and fire and now large flames were visible even to a girl not wearing her glasses. “It just came over the police scanner.” I stopped for a moment and we both watched the woman who owns the building stand outside helpless waiting for the fire truck to come.

Moral of the story: never let yourself get down to your last pair of underwear before doing laundry.

S.O.S

I haven’t written in a while. Things are busy at work, we are completely full and I’ve been coming home so exhausted that I don’t have enough energy to do anything except sleep. I’ve had four patients and worked three 12 hr. days where I’ve only had time to sit down during the few moments I’ve had for lunch.

Our unit is so full that the surgeons had to cancel cases because there would be no bed for them once surgery is done. Bed changes are always being made so we can accept more people. “There are people down in the O.R. with open chests that have no where to go after surgery.” The head nurse told me a few days ago.

I’m glad I’m not the one in charge and am hoping for a break soon.

Hair!

I just swept on Thursday. My parents were coming for the weekend and I wanted the house to look clean. I spent most of Saturday cleaning and I was amazed how much hair had accumulated on the floor in just two days. Both Adrianne and I have think blond hair that seems to fall out at amazing rates. If our floors aren’t swept at least once every few weeks the floor is covered in tumble weeds of hair. Considered me grossed out.