LLC, EIN, FEIN, Sub S, UCC..........what?

Okay, now I know why people don't go into business for themselves....first you have to get a law degree in order to know what you need to open anything!

I need to form an LLC, I need a EIN#, need to register name with state of KS, need a sales tax ID #, need food license, need, need, need. UGH! The only thing I don't need is....well, I am not sure! I actually had to contact a friend today to see which to do first! She is a lawyer, thank you Lord for making one of my best friends a lawyer. So I call her and she explains most of the stuff within a 33 minute time span but also adds that I need a contract, bill of sale, lease, lien something or another.......okay, why on earth did I call her? She just doubled my list of crap to do if I open this cafe/bakery. Do the Mennonites or Amish have to go through all this mumbo jumbo? If not, I am thinking it might be easier to join their church and then open this place.

I need a food wholesaler, I need to change all the utilities over into my name.......one more time, need, need, need.

How about my wants? I just want to paint a pretty sign that says open and go for it!

Give me a break, it is easier just to become a drug dealer. Get the stuff, sell it, buy an expensive car, move into a ridiculously expensive house, hire bodyguards, poof! you're done! Oh no, for those of us who want to open a legitimate place of business must jump through 4,356 hoops before we can even open a checking account with a business name on it. Something doesn't seem too fair about this. Let's face it, I will work harder, longer hours, not make a smidgen of what the drug dealer makes AND have to apply for 14 different licenses before I can even sell a freaking cupcake! Rules. I am starting to detest the word.

Today I spent my entire day cleaning larger than life dust bunnies from the corners of my home. Really, I thought at one point I could name some of these bunnies, declare them as dependents and claim them on my taxes! James spent the day at the Chiefs game. I cleaned, he played. So about 4 pm, I was happily (I mean disgruntled) starting on mopping the kitchen floor when James pulls up to the house from the game. I decide that he can take over, I mumble something about slavery in Kansas, I tell him that about the only thing I haven't gotten done is the mopping and sorting of 239,935 useless plastic items we have collected over the years, and I declare that I am stopping, taking a shower and we are going out to dinner. He comments that it looks like I have done alot today and dinner out is a good idea. So, I pop in the shower, noticing that is one other place that needs to be sandblasted, come out, dressed and ready to go and KNOWING that he would assume the mopping as his responsibility and I would walk out to the kitchen and it would be shining in all of its glory. Nope. There James sat watching another football game. Ummm...okay, the closest weapon to me is what? Ahhh, could I possible grab the razor blade out of the tub and get his carotid artery? Should I grab the toilet cleaner and try to sneak a few ounces in his Mountain Dew can? How about my curling iron, the cord around his neck? I can't believe he is just sitting there? Of course this morning before he left for the game, he was nice enough to bring his laundry basket out for me to run his dirty clothes through a spin or two....I am going to kill him. We get home from dinner around 8 pm, he claims the day exhausted him and he is going to bed. BED??!! Your clothes are still in the dryer and you are going to bed? Okie dokie, in the dryer the will stay. I understand that sitting in that football stadium is a hard job, but somebody has to do it and of course I had that all inclusive, fun filled day of cleaning so you go right ahead and go onto bed......I will be in with your pillow soon...........soon to be held over your face! We will see if you have enough stamina from that grueling pace you had to keep up all day to defend your life buddy! Oh alright, James works hard and he deserves a day of fun I guess so everyone starting to email me about killing him.......hold your horses.

Tomorrow Kris, mom and I are off to Kansas City for the day. I have signed up for a massage while Kris is at market and then off to lunch after that and then home to file LLC's, EIN's....whatever. Maybe the masseuse will kidnap me, hold me hostage forever, massage me into a coma and well who cares after that!

uh hello? helloooooooooo? hellllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooo?

Uh does anybody hear me? Does anyone read this? Is this like the rest of my life where nobody listens? Oh well, if so, I still keep on talkin'. So, today was the day that the guy was supposed to call me with his last and final offer. Uhhhhh.....my phone didn't ring once today. Not the home phone, not my cell phone. ummmmmmmmmmm? hmmmmm......I stressed all stinkin' day over what? Tomorrow is the day that I tell him whether I want to buy the place or not and I don't have a price? ugh.........no, wait, not ugh ............ YAAWWEEEEEEEZAMMMAAAGAAAAAAAAAAHHHH ......... yep that is a full fledge scream. Man, I will tell you, I realize that I am not the most patient person on earth but come on.

Today was not my day. It was my sisters though! Her "almost new" computer (according to her, a three year old computer is the latest, greatest contraption on earth...we all know it is ready for the Smithsonian) crapped out. Of course we can all breath a sigh of relief because we all know that Kris has learned her lesson and has backed up all her records.......um nope, nope not my sister....she had nothing backed up but fortunately nothing of importance was on her computer of three years. So she got lucky because this morning it suddenly reversed it's boo boo and is once again the "little computer that could".

I want to go to sleep however I can't because of all the scary thoughts passing through my gates of brainland. I have sucked down my usual amount of sleeping aids and still nothing. I avoided all caffeine products since early noon, nothing. I ate a sensible dinner, not too much, still....nothing. I think I will call that guy about 3 a.m. and say "hey, you are ruining my dream cycle tonite so I thought I would call you and ruin yours". No, I am not bitter...where did you get an idea like that? I just can't sleep and I really can't even think of anything to write about so I am just rambling. I think I just heard my one follower click on her escape button so she could go run with the #49 sheep and then onto #50 and ugh.........I am already on 232,222,984,999 sheep and still nothing. No fair you one follower you.....you get back here and suffer along with me like any good friend would. tee hee

Maybe I should talk about road rage. I seem to excel at this illness. C'mon peeps, this is one of my pet peeves. In fact let's just go over my pet peeves.

#1 gum snapping. There is no reason to try to get $87 dollars worth of fun out of every nickel sized stick of gum...really.

#2 Passholes. yep, got a P on the front of the bad word. These are peeps that get in the passing lane on the highway and do everything BUT pass. They text, they eat their McDonalds breakfast wrap, they balance their checkbooks, they scream at their children, they rearrange their latest hair fashion, they read the latest edition of the Readers Digest, they cook a small meal on the way to the ballpark, they brush their teeth, they talk to the morning DJ...yep, they do everything but PASS. It must be some kind of road challenge to keep pace with the 127 year old man driving in the right hand lane. Seriously, I can follow someone 12 miles and they don't budge outta that left lane until there exit is 1/3 a mile away and then they make some huge, scary, dodge em car maneuver to get off and then I am way shafted and have to drive 6 more miles for the next exit because I just knew that at some point she would look in her rearview mirror and see me throwing my hands up in the air while yelling "do ya know where your accelerator is?"

#3 Blood curdling screams emitting from children in stores. Please, please, please...do not make an excuse up like "well, little Timmy is so tired, he needs a nap" because after listening to your kid for the last 27 minutes in a full throttle, ear piercing, sound barrier breaking point....I don't want to hear any excuses other than you are a deaf person and didn't realize it was happening. You thought he was just smilin' from ear to ear all this time and people were not giving you a look that would kill........nope, we were just admiring that happy little tyke of yours! Go home, get the kid some Benadryl, have a few shots yourself, sleep it off and hit Walmart at any time other than when I am there. You know how restaurants have smoking and non smoking sections? How about one Walmart in town that is non kid? I bet that place would be a zoo! Maybe a librarian could run it and everytime some adult didn't use their indoor voice, the librarian could get on the intercom and point you out on video closed circuit tv with her fingers over her mouth, stern look and a very loud SSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh. You, yeah you in the hosiery department, aisle 41, shut up. Shut up or get out. You can go to the kids walmart if you can't act like an adult. GET OUT!

Wow, I am almost getting sleepy, I think I better shut this thing off and continue with my other peeves at a different time.

I will probably be back in 3 minutes............oh mr. sandman.........is that you at the door?

The Time Has Come

Oh boy, it's decision time. The clock has started and I need to make a decision. Do I buy the cafe and open the cupcake/sandwich shop or do I go back to modeling? ugh. Even though the modeling is great pay, travel, hob-nob with the rich and famous...blah, blah, blah...I am just tired of trying to keep my figure at a size 4. It is almost impossible. Oh wait, wait a second....size 4? I must have been regressing to second grade. Okay, big deal, so I am not a model...so what? I bake better than any model. I can cook up a mess of grade A cookies faster than a super model can barf up her lunch! So there! Take that you skinny, bleached blonde schmuck! So here are my two choices, work for some stupid office doing work I hate 40 hours a week or bake my socks off for 80 hours a week and don't know if I would hate it or not. I love to bake but if I HAVE TO bake will it become a "job"? They both will pay the same....nothing again, as usual. At the accounting position I will have some benefits that I really don't need (after all, who needs a 401K?) and at the bakery job I will have only one benefit and that is a private, all mine bathroom. Who will cover for me if I am sick? Who will cover me if I want to fly to Hawaii for lunch? Who will cover for me if I wanna run away? What if all my employees quit and I have to work 1228 billion hours every year?? It's funny, I wanted to work about three days a week from here on out and now I am signing up for six days a week. What am I thinking? Of course, James says I have to work 5 days for someone else or 6 for myself. What is that about? See why I was looking for a rich, single plastic surgeon? James and I went through all the numbers today and I am estimating that I will gross about 32 cents the first year of business. Maybe68 cents if I put out one of those "take a penny" saucers out and steal from it every night. What if nobody ever eats there, ever? What am I going to do with 42 pounds of party ham and 14 pounds of Velveeta...oh sure, Christmas gifts but Kris hates cheese so what do I give her? Oh hey Kris, Merry Christmas, here I got you 576 straws and a half a box of coffee stirrers. David, I know how much you like plastic cutlery, and Janice, you are my favorite so here, here is your brand new, used hot dog roller and steamer. Yep everyone...Merry Christmas!!! Okay so my fears are, no one will eat there, I won't be able to make payroll even if they do show up, I will fall and knock my hip out of socket, roaches and mice will overtake my space, I will run out of Diet Coke in the machine from my constant craving of carbonation, my ice machine will break down right as I open for the first day, and a brand new "cupcakes r us" will open across the street the day after I sign the lease. Wow. Anybody know of an accounting office that needs help? WAAAAAAAAAH. I am optimistic though. I hope my mom would at least come over the first day and buy a coke. Of course, I would feel obligated to give it to her for free so that really doesn't help things. Can I right that off as a business expense I wonder? She would probably not come back.....she hates places that have bad service. I have decided on my colors for the cafe and the name so maybe it's time to take the chance and dive right in. In my earlier years, I had no fear. No fear of anything. I would fly, no problem, I would get into strangers cars while cruising the boulevard, no problem, I would drive in snow, ice, no problem. Now, I won't hardly go to the bathroom without a phone, you never know when your big toe might get stuck in the drain and you would have to call 911. I am horrified by the thought of flying, after all, what if some maintenance guy forgets to put one of the lug nuts that holds some really important wingy part of the plane back on? What if, just on the off chance that BOTH of the pilots have heart attacks, what if that giant monkey from that Twilight Zone episode comes back and it's flying on the wing? HUH?? Then what would you do? Oh sure, laugh if you want but don't be calling me on the $42 in flight phone call to tell me that monkey is back! I don't drive if it even looks like it is going to sprinkle, little alone on ice. I won't get into a strangers car anymore unless it has Arizona license tags and of course there is that bathroom phone emergency stuff. So, in my short life, I have gone from fearless to scaredy cat. If I was 23, I would think the bakery was an adventure and so what if it doesn't work out? I can always find some high paying job at the mall, folding 479,222 outifts that all the 14 year olds dumped on the floor of the dressing room! And when I got sick of that job there are still 13 places in Topeka that I haven't worked so big buzz! Oh no....who will watch the bakery when I am in Cancun every May. Uh....I don't miss Cancun for anything! Uh hello........I have to fly to get there...that is traumatic in itself! If I am willing to risk life and limb for sunny beaches well then.....

I think the previous paragraph was a little bit, well let's say it was grammatically incorrect. Is that even right? Grammatically incorrect? Boy, good thing I am not trying out for English 101 teacher of the year!

Okay, my decision is to go for it! Yep. Well until tomorrow when I change my mind and then again tomorrow afternoon and then again tomorrow night..........etc.

Ugh...why is this so hard. If this was a gift shop I would be all over it. I know how to do that. Food service? hmmmm.....I have no idea what I am even doing. I guess it is time to call the health department to get some regulation books or whatever you call them. If I am going to do this, I am going to do it right. Anyone out there know anything about running a restaurant? lol....I guess I am about to find out!

Cutest Blog Cupcakes

Wow....I did it...I added cupcakes to my blog. Is this cute or what?

911? Yes I need a Hazmat team to come immediately....

What have I done....sigh...."oh sure! come on over! We'd love to have you over for cards!" And if this wasn't enough to want me to stuff an over-sized pillow in my mouth, I have to add, "How about dinner? James would LOVE to fix a meal that consists of some kind of chicken that has 2,408 ingredients along with all the fixin's!" What? What did I just say? Surely I didn't just invite people over to my house. No, no I didn't, I am just having a random nightmare and I will wake up soon and laugh it off. Whew, that was a close one. Now wake up Kelley.....uh oh......here my mouth goes again..."How about 7?" 7? What?? 7 years? That might give me enough time to clean the bathroom! I glance over at James, sitting on the couch after mowing all afternoon, only to see sheer panic written all over his face. OOOOOOOOHH NOOOOOOOOOOO........I am clamping both of my hands over my mouth praying silently....please, please, let them say "We'd love to but we both have hip surgery tomorrow at 6 a.m. and can't make it, but thanks for the invite...maybe in 2024?" Nope, no such luck..."We'd love to! What can we bring?" How about Hazmat suits?? Yeah, that would be what I would bring to my house if my immune system was not fully intact. Okay, no reason to panic, James has two full tanks of gasoline in his truck, how much time can it take to suck it out, pour it all around the perimeter of our house and light a match? POOF! Better than Merry Maids any day, I say.

For those of you that have never been invited to our house, there is a really good reason and just be thankful. We have a certain couple, R and P (no names, only initials) over twice a year, once on New Years Eve and at least one other time per year for cards. We figure this way, we will actually clean our house twice a year and that should keep the health department from closing us down. We have actually been putting off R and P for our bi-annual for months now with the excuse of the house is such a mess because we are redecorating...aka still blow torching the stains out of the toilet. ugh.

Our house really isn't "dirty", it's just...well let's say.....cluttered. Cluttered to the point of "World of Stuff". We have so much crap, that just last week I saw a family of packrats moving out of our house complaining that there just weren't enough of them to keep up with all the work. I felt really sorry for them, they looked so overworked, hunched tiny backs, little dark circles....oh well.

Yes, that was me about one hour ago. Really, put some red lipstick on this mouth, open it and there you go...instant bowling alley! ARRRRRRRRGGGGGH! Am I just stupid or is it complete insanity? I am pleading insanity for sure! That might get me a nice room at the "spa" for a few months if I am lucky.

Okay so back to panic. I assess what needs to be done the most. Assessment, everything. MAAAAAN! Okay, I send my husband one direction, I head the other. I plead with him to go get the vacuum out of the bedroom, I dash out to my car, readying for a quick get away only to realize I have forgotten my keys. He is at the door looking at me like a child being left at an orphanage when I unwillingly come back in mumbling something about I thought I saw a bear....blah, blah, blah. Ok, time to face the music (what does that mean?), I figure my first plan of attack is on the ever-growing amount of stuff on the dining room table has to be hidden somewhere, and fast! The clock is echoing every tick tock so loudly that I am wondering if it is my own heart beat or what? I quickly grab a stack of Walmart plastic bags, and start scraping mountains off the table. I figure that I can stack these bags on one of our couches and say "I am almost finished Christmas shopping but geesh, now I have to wrap all that stuff! I take a quick glance at the clock and wonder the odds of our guests having a flat tire on the way here....doubt overwhelms me, so I run in to the bathroom to dump some toilet cleaner in and then back to the kitchen. WHOOOOOOOOOOOA.........who broke in and messed up my kitchen so bad and why didn't they take anything???! Stuff in the dishwasher....dirty, stuff in both sinks, dirty, stuff all over the counter tops, dirty. NOOOOOOOO...where am I supposed to hide all this stuff? Trashcans....full. Back porch? The dogs would have a heyday! But can I really put all this stuff out on the back porch? Bugs? Crap. I have to wash all this by hand. Second glance at the clock....I call friend "T" and explain that the recipe takes longer than expected, can we change the time for one half hour later? Sure.........aaaaaaaah, I got a stay from the courts! So wash, wash, wash and wash some more. A quick drive over the big stuff on the floor with the vacuum and a few swipes with the mop, now I need a shower! I toss my shoes off, then remembering the company, pick them up when I hear....hear....what is that noise? It is irritating, I have heard it before...what is that? I know that I know that noise but just can't quite put my finger on it...it is grinding on my nerves, I can't figure out what it is, but I do know what room it is coming from...it's not fingernails on a chalk board, it's not that always annoying drip from the faucet, it's not one of the dogs puking up a wet sock....no....it's....WHAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!!-----It's football! FOOTBALL?!?!!!! I run into the living room and see my, what might be---soon to be ex-husband sitting on the couch watching football????!?!?!!! Oh no, I don't think so buddy, not unless you can show me your union card, your break is officially over! Oops, I suddenly remember that he is the one cooking so I can't even give him the evil eye, little alone yell at him! Am I going to cry? No, chin up Kelley, time to get in the shower. I realize that I haven't shaved my legs for a few days but do I really have time for that too? The only clean clothing that I have are shorts. Great. Then it dawns on me...we have invited T and N over (again, initials) and I know that T shaves more irregularly than I, so as long as we don't sit close to each other, we won't risk the chance of getting tangled up with each other. Grossssssssss. "NEXXXXXXXXXT" time for James to shower. I will finish the apple fritters while he showers. Glance at the clock (why do I do that?) it's crunch time for sure! I put all the fritters out on paper towels, run over to the freezer to get out the powered sugar to sprinkle on them, grab a spoon and start shoveling powdered sugar all over them. Note to everyone...don't wear navy blue when having a small argument with powdered sugar. Uh....is that powdered sugar or did I accidentally grab the flour? Where's my car keys? How many credit cards are in my purse and how long can I live abroad with them? I dab my finger, bring it up to my lips....please, pleeeeeease let this be sugar. Yep, whew! That was a close one! Timer is going off for the chicken, other stuff in microwave, set table, okay, I am ready. It is 7:28, two minutes to spare. I haven't mopped the kitchen but I can quickly take a few lightbulbs out of the fixtures and viola! Ambiance! Floor doesn't look too bad this way, maybe I should go around the house and take other bulbs out and claim that we are so "green" that we just don't believe in lighting anymore because we don't want to leave a "footprint". Man, that is a good idea! We don't clean with harmful substances because of the "footprint", we don't do anything because we don't want to leave our "footprint"....this is great! Who says it's not easy being "green"? This is the best thing since being laid off! I have an excuse for everything now! Kermit move over....I am now the new "green" spokesperson!!

Suddenly the phone rings....T tells me they are going to be late. Are you kidding?! Oh I don't think so, dinner is on the table, James and I are both clean, the dogs are in their kennels....oh no, where are you, cause I am coming there to kick your butt! She explains that they are just a few minutes away so I put down the hatchet and put it back into the drawer. There will be no stabbing tonite. I have just earned about five more minutes, what should I do? Dessert? Did we forget a dessert? Do Skittles qualify as a dessert? Yes. put them in a bowl, they look pretty and just say it's a fruit salad. You might laugh at this but hey, since going "green", I don't appreciate the fact that they use all those harsh, cancer causing agents on every piece of fruit brought over the border! Sounds good? Yes, Skittles it is!

Aaaah, our guests have arrived. And since they DO read my blog.....they arrived with nothing...no gift, no food, no nothing. (lol, I just have to rub that in because last time they came over I griped at the fact that they needed to bring a "hostess" gift, that they actually fell for it and brought me really cool 3-D sidewalk chalk) So anyway, here they are with nothing and I lock the door. When I see gifts, I will unlock. They remind me, screaming through the door that Sonic is close enough to us and they would rather eat there anyway. Oh alright, you big babies, come on in!

T and N glance around, noting that there are 62 different candles burning in every room of the house (to mask the "three dog smell"). I lean over toward them, whispering some incoherent sentence that went something like this "ya know, James is still a little bit upset over MJ's death and he just likes to light candles to remember his greatness, it's kind of like a shrine....but please don't say anything to him....I don't want to upset him...." then I start coughing and excuse myself to the restroom, remembering I didn't light a candle in there yet and since James was in there last.........well......

Time for dinner. T asks how I got the mash potatoes so creamy...BECAUSE THEY ARE FAKE OK!?!! FAKE POTATOES! THERE I ADMIT IT! I look around to see horror written all over the faces of my peers. I have lost it....I need to apologize for my sudden outburst but instead I put my finger in my ear and say "oh sorry, my hearing aid was way down...did I yell that? HA HA HA sorry...." I twist my finger around to make it look like I am turning up my fake hearing aid and then I go back to a normal range of voice and smile while taking a small bite of "fruit salad".
Dinner went off without a hitch, it was yummy and a huge "thank you" to James.

I tell my guests "we fixed it, you clean up". I never said I was a good hostess, and I felt this was fair since they didn't bring me a gift........lol. Oh alright, I will clean it up and T offered to help. Okay you go ahead and do it, I am going to go bowl a few lines....I will be back in a few hours. Nope, James already has the cards out. RATS! I politely ask if anyone would mind if I went a laid down for a few hours to let my overly stuffed stomach settle down and they just look at me. Cards then? I'd love to. sigh

We played, we laughed, we mocked one another, we had a great time. We played till about 2 a.m.
Now let me say that James usually doesn't stay up this late but we felt like we had to keep them until at least that time to see if there were any adverse side effects from the food or germy house stuff before they left. We didn't want them to get ill during there long drive home. We figured that if they got sick while they were here, we could just bury them out in the "dog cemetery" and score their car and credit cards. Well........they didn't bring us a gift...........so don't be looking at me like I am some evil, meth addicted, kitten killer......I figured that they at least had enough of a limit on their Visa to get a big screen plasma for James and I for our anniversary. Really, T and N would want that for us. Really!

I haven't heard from T yet and it is after noon on Sunday. This worries me a bit since she calls me everyday before noon. I don't dare call there though because if my phone # shows up on their caller ID while the police are putting up the yellow tape while chalking the body outlines, they are going to question James and I. There is no proof that we fed them last night, surely our neighbors won't rat us out....better that I just leave this alone and wait to read the obituaries for the next couple of days to see.....

Flip a coin!

Do I want to own a bakery/sandwich shop or do I want to be a disgruntled accounting schmuck again? Ugh, I can't make up my mind! Could someone out there just tell me what to do? Ever since I buried my dream of being a nurse along with any hopes of being a major lottery winner, back behind the house with the many beloved deceased pets...I don't know what to do! In fact, now that I think about that, maybe I should go dig a hole and put something from nursing school in it to face the fact that it is a dead dream and put it behind me. Maybe I will dig up gold! More than likely I will dig up the cable and James and I will have to sit here all weekend looking at each other. Forget that idea! He would kill me with his bare hands if there is a 24 hour Monk special on so I better leave that shovel alone. It's time to move forward though, so I need to make a decision and fairly quickly.

I have made a baby step, I have applied for about 23 jobs that I have no real interest in and told myself that if I don't even so much as get an interview this week, that I would consider buying the sandwich shop. I have been baking everything from cinnamon rolls to cupcakes, to cookies, to pies this past week seeing what creations I could come up with. If I bake one more thing this week, James is going to have to put double doors in the house in order for me to get in or out!

For those of you reading this that don't know me, I would like to take the next 231 hours listing all the places that I have worked and believe it or not, I have only been fired from one. It was the temporary job when I was 17 at the Hickory Farms Christmas store. Wow, now there was a career! The following are in no particular order:

Dairy Queen
Kansas Bar Association
BRB
WRHS
Chinese Rat Kitchen (I can't remember the name of the place but this name is close enough)
Tommy Oil
Sirloin Stockade
Hickory Farms
Fashion Conspiracy
Sarco (my sisters favorite....)
Miller Mart
City of Topeka Parks and Rec
Goodyear
Cardinal Brands
St Francis Hospital
Vickers Gas Station (summer of 1978, I actually pumped gasoline and checked oil)
Some check proofing company...can't remember name
Commerce Bank
Fidelity Bank
Confetti
Dickersons
22 Ivy Lane
Save More Foods
Dillons (twice)
Sak n Save
USD 501
Dr Gilham, DDS
Bryan Travel Agency
International Tours
Travel agency in Lawrence, KS (don't remember the name)
KB Toys
Boy Scouts of America (#1 worst job ever)
Volume Shoe (twice)

I am sure there are more places but....obviously my resume exceeds the pages of War and Peace.

I get bored very easily. There has only been a few jobs that have kept me busy for 8 straight hours and when they don't, I want to quit. So I do. I need a job that is fast and furious, I want to stay busy, pick up my paycheck on Friday and go home and do it all over the next week.

Maybe someone can help me pick my next career, these are the things I love:

baking
graveyards
dogs
swimming
diet coke
coloring
jewelry or anything sparkly
dolphins

So, any ideas? Years ago I applied for a job writing headstones to give people ideas what to put on them. What a strange job. I am not sure what kind of training you need for this, nor do I think there is a class at the local university that teaches this but I am guessing that my Dairy Queen training wasn't enough to even get me in for an interview.

Anyone know anyone needing a writer that has no experience but full of bitterness and stupid stories? I tell you, I would excel at this!

Strange ideas are always right on the verge of spilling out of my head to no avail. A guy makes billy bob teeth and makes millions, someone names a rock and makes billions, someone cuts a piece of coil, calls it a Slinky and makes gazillions....why? Why am I not among these "genius" marketing freaks? In the past I have always prided myself in Christmas gift construction. All the way from "Barbies Bar and Pole Dancing Truck Stop", "Heathers Trailer Court Play Set" (that came with accessories ranging from WIC vouchers to packs of Marlboro's), last years was "Seizure Care Bear", and the famous "Easy Bake Meth Lab". Of course the meth lab was an idea that I got from someone else but my accessories were way better! I tried to make the "My Little Pony glue factory" but was unable to find the correct used Fisher Price car garage at the Goodwill. Maybe this year I can score one. I do have an outstanding idea for a piggy bank but I am not sure if the world is ready for it yet. Oh well.

So you can see my dilemma. HEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLP!!!!!! Please place your votes now...do I get the bakery? or the schmuck job?

Cinnamon Roll Fiasco

Okay, so last night I get the nerve to try to bake cinnamon rolls from scratch. Why? Why would I do this when Rhoads sells some darn good honker cinnamon rolls in your nearby frozen food section? Here is my answer...I wanted to see if I could fix BETTER ones. Answer: No I cannot. WAAAAAAAAIt........ a minute though...for those of you who are into quantity over quality, then this cinnamon roll is for you! My recipe said that this batch would provide 15 large rolls. According to my "cutting the loaf in 1 1/2 inch sections" skills...my batch made 6. Okay, so they were the size of Utah and had enough icing on each one to make the USDA Food Pyramid shudder, weighing in at about 2.4 gazillion calories each. At one point in time, I looked in the oven to see if they were rising and I lived in fear that they would grow right out of the oven, slamming the oven door open, pinning me up against the kitchen wall, enabling me from grabbing the phone to dial 911. Seriously, watching these things grow 37 trillion times their original size was like watching my butt growth over the last 14 years in fast forward motion. That is not a sight I want to share with anyone...I came close to losing my own corneas.

I realize that this was my first try and I don't think it could have gone much worse. I am giving myself 5 points just because they did actually raise. Oh, and an additional .3 points because the icing was mega yummy. So a total of 5.3 points to me. Now, I am not going to tell you this was a scale based on the highest being a 10 or 100 or even 1,000 because my ego can't take the crushing blow.

I have learned one lesson from this experiment though-any recipe that says the words "knead dough for the rest of your life" or "knead dough until your arms fall off at the shoulder" should never be attempted at home without paramedics standing by. About half way through the kneading I was tempted to grab one of the dogs, shave him bald, toss the dough on the floor and let him wrestle with it to get that "rubbery" consistency. That recipe was insane! My new mantra is...never fix anything with more than 3 ingredients and one of those has to be water. Not water at 110 degrees, just water. What is that about? 110 degrees? How am I supposed to know what 110 degrees feels like? Yeah, yeah, I know thermometer...whatever.

Okay, so now I realize that cinnamon rolls are not going to be my "signature" recipe. No Oprahs favorite things for me this week. BUT----what do you guys think about this?--way off the subject but....do we all agree that caskets are boring? Like I said in my earlier blog that I would be buried in a giant foil cupcake wrapper....well, what if you loved hot dogs? Your body could lie in state in a giant hot dog bun or maybe if you loved beer your body could lie in state in a giant aluminum Coors can with your head coming out of the "pop tab" part? Better yet, a big frosty mug with the beer foam head replaced by your own head sitting on a pillow of that white stuffing that they put in cheap plush products? And the pillow could be in the shape of a screw off bottle cap? I know you are asking yourself right this minute..."Why hasn't this girl made millions?" I ask myself this every day. I have so many ideas in this tiny, minuscule head of mine that I just KNOW that one of my ideas is going to be replacing the ads for SHAMWOW towels any day now.

Speaking of shamwows...that guy.....has anyone glanced at the latest FBI most wanted list because I am almost sure he might be on it. He freaks me out more than the creepy dude on the Burger King commercials.

Today I filled out an application at my old grade school which is now in "the hood". After sending off the resume I dreamed of stooping over to drink from the water fountains of my childhood and visiting the delicious smells wafting from the cafeteria and then WHAM!---reality check!!---I would now be in the principals office more than I was back in the 60's and I would be the one with fresh vomit being projectiled on my new shoes by every 3rd grader there! Aaahh...and the lice, the lice is such a nice thought, doesn't that just have Hallmark written all over it? The only thing I can say for this position is that you only have to work 9 months of the year so that means you can spend an enjoyable 3 months during your summer off at a nearby spa....aka...asylum, recovering from 500 children under the age of 11 under one roof that need you for everything from pant wetting to switchblade arsenals in their lockers. What have I done? All this for $11 an hour. That won't even pay for my first therapy session!

The bottom line here is, I need a job. I don't know what I want to do but I do know that I want to buy more stuff at some point in my life so I need a job. Hobby Lobby is soon going to give my "customer of the year" parking place away to someone else if I don't see a paycheck pretty quick. The cashiers at Target don't know me by name anymore and Coach? I can't even go there. It's too upsetting...I haven't had the fresh smell of Coach leather penetrate my nostrils for so long that I am afraid that the next time I am in their fine store, I will pass out due to my leather resistance is down! $11 an hour...isn't that against the law? How am I supposed to keep on the latest handbag at $11 an hour? I hear ya right now saying "Some people don't even have enough money to feed their families and you are worried about a new purse?"....yes, I am. So there you have it, I am an ungrateful little brat, selfish....etc...but by golly, I will never, ever, not in a billion years be caught dead with "pleather". I will go to my grave before I carry a purse from Kmart, yes, and it will be in the foil cupcake wrapper so there!

cupcake overdose

Okay, in the anticipation of possibly opening a cupcake store, I am officially upon cupcake overdose. I have called the local pharmacy to see if I can obtain insulin by the gallon instead of the small vial I am used to. My first batch was "strawberry dreams" and the second batch was "chocolate something". I always joke that if I ever wanted to kill myself I would never get a gun, rope, or illegal substances...I would just overdose on Zagnuts. Nope, no joke now...my obituary will state the following:

Kelley Robinson, of Topeka, KS, died of cupcake overdose on September 6, 2009. She had previously worked at...well, in the interest of not having to publish a 4,329 page special edition, let's just say she never worked as a pole dancer anywhere. She graduated with honors from ACCC in 1996 with a totally worthless degree in Fine Arts. In 2009, she graduated again with another worthless degree "Medical Specialist". She was serving a lifetime sentence at Washburn Nursing School at the time of her death. Survivors include a bunch of unlucky suckers that will have to clean out a household full of useless and worthless crap. The family requests donations made to the Humane Society or to her sister Kris Saia so she won't have to live under the bridge and eat cat food when she is old. Kelley will be buried in a giant foil liner at Mt. Hope Cemetery on Tuesday at 2 pm or whenever her timer goes off.

So back to my cupcakes. The strawberry ones were delicious. The chocolate ones....well.....they were good but too much. The strawberry dreams consisted of vanilla cake, split down the middle with fresh strawberries, strawberry preserves, topped with cream cheese icing and fresh strawberry slices. Then the chocolate fudge cakes were filled with cream cheese icing, topped with fudge icing and crushed oreos. STOP!!!! UGH......I can't talk about them anymore or I will vomit. Really. I am wondering if my insurance covers a self inflicted stomach pump procedure?

I have a big decision coming up this week. Yes, I obviously love drama. Do I drop from school was the big decision last week, this week....do I buy an already established cafe so I can poison others with my cupcake creations or do I go get another schmuck job in accounting? I think I will just flip a coin. Maybe I could get a job writing about vocational errors. That would keep me employed until I qualify for social security.

Growing up, I always wanted to be a dentist. How weird is that? When other little girls were dreaming of being mothers, nurses, etc.....I wanted to be a dentist. What was wrong with me?? The only thing that I am good at is baking and numbers. I can remember a phone number forever if I only dial it once. I can remember the phone # of JC Penneys from 1968, I can remember my grandmas # and she died 26 years ago. I know the address of a friend that I haven't talked to since 1981. Maybe I can see a hypnotist that can relieve me of this useless knowledge I am storing in my head to make room for something more useful such as memorizing the Gettysburg address or something that would make me money on a game show?

Oh well.

A special thanks goes to Kay Smith today. She is praying for me to find my dream job. Well Kay, so am I. There has got to be a place for me. I have worked at so many places that I am sure that Guinness Book of World Records is trying to contact me at this very moment. If not, maybe Ripleys Believe it or Not....I just want a job that is entertaining and that keeps me busy for my entire shift. I get so bored when there is nothing to do. So help me, if any of you say "well nursing will keep you busy", I will jump on you like a screech monkey jacked up on Mountain Dew! C'mon.........wanna test me????! SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!!!!!!!

I am trying to decide if the cafe doesn't work out...where will I head? If anyone knows of a retirement home that needs an activity director please keep me in mind. I think that is one of my top ten job "wants". I know it doesn't pay anything but I love working with seniors so....it will be worth the pay cut!

Well, I am off to either ingest a bottle of Tums or pray for a case of Bulimia....either way......ugh....no more cupcakes this weekend that's for sure!

Can you say L O S E R?

Well folks it's almost official....I will soon be a nursing school drop out. ugh.

You know, that pro and con list that all of you make for important decisions? Yeah well I made mine....here it is:

Pros of staying in nursing school list...

#1 won't have to work while in school.
#2 got scholarship, won't cost me much to stay in school
#3 will always be able to find a job if a nurse
#4 better chance of finding rich, new husband that is a plastic surgeon so I can give nice Christmas gift certificates to Gail and Tonya
#5 I can wear scrubs everyday
#6 stethoscope is kind of fun to wear
#7 classmate mocking possibilities are endless
#8 learning new stuff was kind of interesting
#9 my new lunchbox isn't even stinky yet
#10 I can't think of a #10

okay, the cons list consists of:

#1 hated studying until 2:30 a.m. every day
#2 LPN pay is just what the acronym states "low paid"
#3 really not all that interested in working with "isolation" patients. Maybe "isolation" is just not my bag
#4 feet the size of Tulsa after 8 hours on the cement floor was really unappealing
#5 my teachers were more unorganized that I
#6 too much stress for the pay
#7 wow....6:30 a.m. is really early
#8 carrying two backpacks, weighing in at a whopping 68 lbs was adding to my already bad posture
#9 I really sucked at taking manual blood pressure
#10 germs
#11 germs
#12-#1,298 germs
#1299 germs
#1300 didn't really want new husband, James is a really nice and I think he is cute too! and Gail and Tonya don't really mind getting those new Girl Scout calendars for Christmas...I hope.

Okay, so you get the drift. I was mentally making a list of things I would rather do than attend nursing school....went something along these lines

I would rather (blank) than go another day to nursing school:

--go to the dentist for root canal
--babysit Gails girls for one week straight without any sort of medication or alcohol
--go to a baby whale clubbing event
--be on Maury with James ex-wife Mary
--be a Wal Mart greeter
--gain another 10 pounds
--drive a '76 Ford Pinto to my 30 year high school reunion
--drive that Pinto off a bridge
--etc...

Anyway, needless to say, as of tomorrow I will be a nursing school dropout. I really am sorry though. It really was a hard decision in many ways. I hate quitting but it really was a lot of stress and at this point in my life, I really didn't need any more. It actually made me cry when I decided to drop but it made me cry more to stay in.

I will be staying with this blog tho...I figure wherever I go to work , I will still be a low paid nobody. I guess that will always be true for me. I am looking for another accounting job (ugh) or maybe I will get lucky and there will be an opening for an Activity Director some where, some place soon! I am still considering opening a cupcake store or hoping that the guy that owns the cafe at Fairlawn Plaza will sell it to me.

Stay tuned....you never know....I might be headed to beauty school soon!

This isn't school, this is a prison term!

Holy moly...school bites.

Just finished my 3rd week of class and still asking myself why I did this. For the sake of my sanity, I am no longer calling this adventure "school", I will now refer to it as "my prison term". I am not sure what I was found guilty of to endure this kind of punishment, I haven't killed anyone, haven't sold drugs at the local elementary school yard, I can't even say that I have stole a pack of Parliament Lights or a quick guzzle from the slushy machine from Apoo at the kwikie mart. So why? What have I done that is so bad? Okay, maybe my niece Gail and I have gone a smidgen too far once in a while, but I am almost sure that I will be punished for that in the afterlife. So I ask you...why?

Monday through Friday, at 8:10 am, I walk into a room that I am sure that Helen Keller decorated on one of her bad days, only to find 28 other women dressed in identical outfits consisting of a white scrub top, followed by blue scrub pants. Maybe a fad? Maybe they are all trying to help a new designer get a new line launched? Maybe I am just delusional or maybe my eyesight is declining after years of not wearing sunglasses at the pool? After surveying the room, wondering what the name of the color of the cinder blocks are painted...is that maybe a dirty yellow? would you consider that color "paste"? I quietly decide to call it "wintry hospital smoothie". I need something fantastic in my life and if it boils down to a nice paint name, then so be it!

So, here I am standing in this "wintry hospital smoothie" room, wondering if I have died and gone straight to hell without even be granted the "really, I didn't mean it God" interview, when I hear "CLANK!"....what the heck?.....I turn around, I see the sliding bars, darkness surrounding me, dropping down into a chair, blindly feeling my way across my desk top only to find my torn chunk of day old bread and tin cup filled with stagnant water. As tears stain my cheeks I now remember this!---I thought this was just a bad dream that I had been having because of the nacho cheese dorito/oreo/cottage cheese/spam sandwich dinner combo last night! Ooooh noooo....this?---this is my life now! Ever seen that movie "groundhog day"? After the darkness seems to drift away like fog on a nice fall day, I squint, seeing the "warden" opening her Pharmacology book. NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! It doesn't do any good to scream at this point, it is over. Not even one of my infamous "throw myself on the floor, foot kicking, hand pounding" fits is going to help me now. Sigh. Sneaking a glance at the clock, I notice that the are pointing at 8:11. How did this all happen in less that 60 seconds? I try to refrain from looking at the clock again but can't understand how this all happened so quickly! I can't help myself, one more peek at the clock....AYEEEEEEEE!..The numbers on the clock have disappeared only to be replaced by the international symbol of eternity!

My first day of prison, I choose to sit in the very back of the room, closest to the door. I was strictly basing my choice on the thought if there was a fire in this room, what is the closest "out"? Now I am thinking "when I start the fire....I will be the first out" AND the first to close the door behind me! Sorry, every man for himself theory is now my creed.

The warden jars my attention by speaking in tongue. I know this might seem shocking..tongue you ask? Yes, it went something like this....

If Mr. Sphincter comes into the hospital complaining of painful urination and the doctor instructs you to give him 500,000 units of Ohtylisnlimaimine but you only have a bottle of the generic Pyxtropanobailate that has the total volume of 1 gram after diluting it with 1.4 milliliters of normal saline, how many micrograms would you inject into him and where? And how many total doses would be left in the vial after dispensing this under the drs. orders "q6hr unless adverse reactions....."

What?

Is that French? Piglatin? What?

I figure this is a good time for me to grab a quick catnap. Uh oh, she is looking at me...oh no...oh boy, I don't think I am going to be able to con my way out of this one. Yes, I can nail almost any job interview by faking all kinds of skills that I do not possess but this? nope, don't think so.

"So, Kelley, how would we start this equation?" Okay, time for me to plan my escape. I grab my plastic spoon from my Hello Kitty lunch box, planning to tunnel my way through say...oh I don't know, possibly 2 foot of cement underlying the tiled floors, possibly 10000 yards out to my Mercedes in the parking lot? I don't think that's going to work. I think quickly...c'mon, c'mon Kelley, you can do this....you can get out of this! YOU GO GIRL! I know I have to move quickly, I have to come up with something fast....okay here it is....I will make myself throw up all over my desk and person in front of me. I figure that maybe she can do me the same favor at a later date.....maybe on a test day? C'mon girl, you had a big bowl of Cocoa Puffs this morning covered with one day past the date of human consumption milk poured all over it...you can do this! I panic, it's not coming up! What am I going to do? C'mon think! She isn't going to let you stall too much longer! AHA! The old "uh oh, I think my insulin pump has quit working" con. YES! Just on a side note...for all of you that feel sorry for me because I am diabetic...don't. At times like these, I consider myself lucky. Anyway, I am just about to blurt this out, you know, the "OH MY GAAAAWD.......my pump!! My pump has quit working!!! OH MY!! EMERGENCY!!! call 911!!!" when I remember, crap, the warden is a nurse. Of all the luck. I quietly admit that I don't know how to start the equation. Did I just hear a gasp from the girl in the second row, 3 seats back? Creepy little girl anyway, she probably stayed up studying till 10 last night, ate some kind of healthy yogurt snack, brushed her teeth, said her prayers and went to bed after removing her make up. Yeah, whatever....I'll see her after school! If you are going to gasp, I am going to...

Okay, the clock has started to move again. It is lunch time! WOOHOO!! Of the 45 minutes that we are allowed to eat, I spend 41 minutes of that time trying to get out of the parking lot among the other 4.8 million people trying to escape. While waiting patiently in traffic behind the boys attending the vocational auto fix em up program, I realize that every one of them has WAY too much rubber on their tires or maybe it is part of their grade to see how much rubber they can lay on the way out of the lot. Either way, I am assuming that it is going to be a fight to the end to see who graduates Summa Cum Laude from this class. They all excel at this test! Okay so I am out of the parking lot, happily on my way to McDonalds when I glance at the clock. CRIPES...time to turn around and go back. No lunch for me today. Well I think I spotted some ABC gum on the bottom of my desk earlier when I was trying to hide under it if called upon for another Pharmacology question. I am seriously hoping that it is one of those kinds that has long lasting flavor, not an old piece of Juicy Fruit that no longer is capable of being Juicy nor the capacity of being fruity. ugh. When I get back to the dungeon, the girl in front of me is having more fun than that of a being contender at the national tiddly winks competition with her gum only to find out that that was the piece I had already called dibs on! What else could happen today? I am hungry, I am stupid, I don't want to be here.....now my freaking ABC gum has been lifted! Note to self....I will not throw up on the girl in front of me next time we have a pop quiz. no sirree...you're on your own baby! I secretly bow my head and pray she chokes on it. CHOKE? CRAP!!!----I could have pretended to choke when the warden asked me about that question!! Why didn't I think of that earlier???? Now, it comes to me! sigh.

I don't think I need to go any further explaining the rest of the day. No reason rehashing the past. I have earned a weekend pass and I am freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!! Free until, I have to open my books and read some ridiculous amount of reading and making of 9, 673 drug cards. Yes, I have earned a weekend pass that equates to the pleasure of having hemorrhoids.

Have a nice weekend.

One week down, 30 some to go

Wow, passed bed baths with flying colors and now onto vitals and changing the occupied bed. Yes, I can see the green in your eyes. You might laugh but you try to unmake and remake an occupied bed with a 300 pound mannequin in it! Let me give you some idea of what it is like. Try eating an elephant in one bite or maybe trying to smuggle a piece of lunch meat past my dogs kennell without them noticing. How about trying to replace my Frito's at lunch with broccoli? Sure, you try it and see how easy it is!

Today we practiced vital signs. Consists of temperature taking, orally and earrally. WHAT??!! Earrally isn't a word? Anyway, then onto pulse, blood pressure and respiration. So we are going over all this intriguing material (zzzzzzzzzzz) and the teacher asks me if I need alcohol. Ummm...what? Okay, now I am thinking HECK YES! Bring on the strawberry margarita's, a little salt on the rim of the specimen cup and let's party! Man, who knew nursing school would be as much fun as a drink and drown Friday night! Bring it on baby! First round is on me! I figure that I couldn't get any worse on vitals so maybe a few daiquiris wouldn't hurt the situation at all! So bring it on, fill up the emesis basin and I will take the diaphragm off my stethoscope and use the tubing for a straw! Yes sirree.....I have no idea on earth at this point why there is a nursing shortage! For heavens sake----all my friends are going to hop on this bandwagon! Uh oh....after my face lit up like a kids on Christmas Day, POP!---bubble burst. Yes, the teacher follows up on my order of two olives, dirty, shaken not stirred with.......sigh.....alcohol to wipe the thermometer off with. I KNEW IT! I knew there was a catch! Cripes, just my luck. Now not only do I not get to drink at school, I have to clean up some mercury filled, slobbery germ stick! hmmmph! Here is the worst part of all this story.....I don't even drink. Of course, I am fairly certain that if I stay in nursing school crack will become part of my morning routine. Oh and on that note, hospitals are starting to regulate narcotics even more now. It will soon be that ONLY RN's and DRS can drop narcotics into the mouths of the people I refer to as "the lucky ones". Yep, no more Med Aids, no more LPNS, no more high school students, and no more dirty cops can hook you up to the best, most addictive drugs known to man. Oh wait, those last two were illegal to begin with, and make gazillions of dollars whereas the other two professions who make minimum wage, feet the size of Tulsa after their 12 hour shifts, can no longer dispense narcs out of a gumball machine. Okay, what is that about? How am I suppose to make a side living if I can't smuggle illegal drugs out of the hospital? Did they really think I was willing to take a $17 hour job with no benefits other than the 10 percent discount in the employee cafeteria? WOOHOO the beanie wienie surprise is a discounted $2.43 for me today!!! So what now? Hey...psssssssst....(opening rain coat) wanna buy some new tongue depressers? How about some alcohol swabs for your little sister? Okay, I can see some of you are thinking about telling your husband, the newly appointed DEA agent that wants a few brownie points, "hey, I know this girl that is starting her own Walgreens out of the trunk of her car....", don't even think about it. I was only kidding. I would never steal drugs from the hospital...they count those things. Really, think about it, if I was going to do that I would work in the Alzheimer's unit and just tell them they already took the med while I pocket it. Duh! STOP IT!-----I AM KIDDING! But if you need something call me at 555-drug. I'M KIDDING!!! Get over it!

So, I am still in school and have successfully completed 7 days now. I have only considered dropping out 5,678,989 times. Oops sorry, James said there was an addition 4 times to that but I really don't think I can count one of them because it was in one of my dreams where I dropped out of nursing school to become a pinball wizard. WARNING...I cannot be responsible if you now have that song replaying in your head for the next 35 hours.

I have until Friday to get my money back on my books and only be charged 10% tuition. I haven't decided yet to stay or go (the pinball wizard sounded pretty good to me) but I told myself that I would flip a coin tomorrow to determine my fate. So far in my life I have always weighed the pros and cons and that is how I made my decisions. Let me say, I have now scientifically proven that, that is no way to determine anything. Always, always, leave it up to someone else so you can blame them later or take old Abe for a ride on the "FingerCoaster" and it's either heads or tails. 50/50 chance. Then go for the the best three outta five if it doesn't go your way. You can do this until Abe's copper covering is worn down to a melted pit of unknown alloys for all I care just don't do this yourself or someone, somewhere, some time will say "You only did this to yourself". OH SHUT UP! BITE ME!

Later this week I have a math test. Not too worried about it. All questions like "If a patient is to take a med 3 times a day for one week, how many pills should the pharmacy give him?" My answer is 8. I know this isn't correct but 8 is my favorite number so I figure at some point, it will be the right number. And why should I have to answer this anyway? I am not a pharmacist! Doesn't a pharmacist have to have as much schooling as a brain surgeon? Okay, if the pharmacist has to depend on me, the LPN to multiply 3 x 7, shouldn't he be asking their customer if they would like to SuperSize their fries? WAAAAAAAAit a minute....that would be funny...go to Walgreens, get a refill for morphine and the pharmacist says "would you like to supersize that?" "Heck yes!"

Oh my, I thought that was funny, tomorrow I will wonder what I was thinking...I think I need sleep. I feel like I have slumber party syndrome. You girls know...after staying up until 4 am, anything is funny? Even your own frozen bra is good for a giggle? ugh. Good night.

Rule Wednesday

Ah yes, I was wondering when the school would get around to the rules. Today was my lucky day, the day I was anticipating!

Don't get me wrong, I am all about rules. I approve whole heartedly on rules like:

---no guns or switchblades
---no sexual harrassment
---uniforms must be clean
---no alcohol or drug abuse
---no visable cleavage (I think that should include not only upper front but lower rear but hey, I don't make the rules) Of course this shouldn't be too much of a problem...I didn't see a Plumber Program.
---I can even make the exception on the 12 mph on campus grounds...don't really like it but...don't know that any car will only go 12 mph but...yes, I have been behind the occasional '98 Oldsmobiles and Buicks on the highway that only seem to go 12 but....

Anyway, you get my point. I can understand and abide by most rules. Notice I state...MOST. First, before I go into too much detail, for those of you who know me, I am 47 years old. Today they said that we could not leave campus before class is released at 2:55 UNLESS we go to the office and get a permission slip to leave. So, in other words, if I have a doctors appointment at say 3:15 and I need to leave at 2:50, I will need to leave class 15 minutes early to walk clear down to the office to get my permission slip to walk clear accross campus to get in my car just to leave 5 minutes early at the age of 47. Hmmmm....the next rule was all based on attendance issues. Well didn't you just say how important it was for my butt to be in class every day, all day but now I have to waste the last half an hour of the class day to get a permission slip to leave 5 minutes early??? Maybe tomorrow we will get the details of the class skating party! My mom can drive us if your dad can pick us up!

As the rules progressed we were on to HIPAA rules. Good rules. I am sure all of us are quite aware that I can't say who is in the hospital for rehab, you don't want me telling everyone that your mother bit the technician who tried to take blood, etc. So that is a good rule. But so help me, if I see Elvis or MJ in any of our wards, I am blabbing to the first rag mag that I can find that talks 7 digits. Sorry folks but I can be bought.

Being back in school brings back so many memories....just today one classmate stated that he was on a med that made him feel homicidal. No, not suicidal, HOMICIDAL. Needless to say, I gave him my PB&J sandwich and milk money immediately and then continued by stuffing myself in my locker to save him the time and trouble. Ahh yes, just like being a Freshman all over again!

Another memory just shot off one of my remaining neurons....class President, Treasurer, etc will be picked in less that 4 weeks! Right after I get my permission slip to leave for my doctors appointment next Monday, I am going to race home and grab my tempera and paint my posters! If anyone wants to help me, feel free to ask your mom if you can go out on a school night and let's party! Root beer Shastas on me!

Are you asking yourself now if I am the proud owner of some bitterness where the rules come in to play? Okay yes. It's kind of like the seat belt laws. I don't get it. If I want to take the chance of being smashed in my own car, then so be it. My passengers should also have the right to take that gamble. My sister would assume that any of you that have ridden with me behind the wheel (and are #1-- still alive and #2--not taking some serious mediciations because of the Post Tramatic Syndrome issues) is like taking your car title to Vegas but that is her story, not mine. Yes, I always wear my seat belt but should it be a law if I want to lick the front grill of a Mack truck? Hmmmm....I don't think so.

Anyway, Rules Wednesday was kind of a dissapointment. It made me angry, it made me question if I should change schools, (maybe I shouldn't have chosen a correctional school as my first choice...just kidding), become a total rebel and cross that fine line and drive 14 mph in the lot and see what happens, or just abide by the rules and be a good girl.

I have until tomorrow afternoon at 2:55 to drop out without cost. Of course that makes me wonder that if I decide at 2:15 to take a walk out to my car, drive away and never go back...do I still have to stop for that permission slip?

Today I gave my first bed bath to a full sized mannequin. As you will remember back to yesterday, I had Lefty, my first amputee. After studying dilligently last night on bed baths, I got stuck with the same mannequin but I now believe in miracles. Upon entering the lab, I had built up such a rapport with Lefty yesterday, I went to his bedside to see how his bowling team was doing without him. I pulled back the covers and SHAZAM! His hand was underneath the top sheet! I immediately broke down into tears and assured him that everything was going to be okay. Now you ask yourselves....what did I do? I realize that I am only 3 days into school at this point but I took it upon myself to reattach the hand. YES! All by myself I was responsible for getting this small child back on his bowling league!! It felt so gratifying! I had saved someone from having to resort to the chess team and back on the road to a full bowling scholarship. It was unbelievable! The rush! So, onto my full mannequin. Not a good story. After following the "bath rules" one by one, I get down to the instruction of lifting the breast and cleaning the fold. No problem. OH IT IS IF YOUR BREAST IS BEING HELD TO YOUR CHEST BY WORN OUT VELCRO! Needless to say, it went flying accross the bed only to land in the hand of Lefty.....just kidding, it just kind of flopped on the ground, under the bed. I am not sure if I got counted down for this or not but if so I will probably not be needing a permission slip to leave the campus.

Better luck tomorrow I guess.

Day 2

Okay, here I am on day 2 of LPN school. I realize that day 2 is probably not an ideal time to start this report but since day 1 was worse...well, I have to start somewhere. At the end of day 1, I was considering becoming an underwater welder.

I am SURE that all of you are wondering what miraculous procedures I learned today. Was it the absolute wonder of childbirth? How about a rousing afternoon of surgical techniques? Perhaps a small, but life saving toe amputation and all the exciting wound care involved with it? Oh heavens no...no siree, my morning was so stimulating that I am not sure of what happened. Maybe it was all the hand washing and........whoa!----hand washing! That was it! We learned how to wash our hands correctly. I am now wondering how I have lived 47 years washing my hands incorrectly? Thank you Lord for the immune system!

In the afternoon I was literally so stimulated by bed making that I thought for sure that I would rush right home and "miter corner" my own sheets! However the wild rush that I got from the afternoon session of "bed baths" wore me down too much to come home to fan fold my sheets. Darn the rush...it's like drinking 4 red bulls at lunch only to come home to warm milk before bed.

Yes, the bed bath, well what else can I say? My dummy patient was a small child missing his left hand. I named him Lefty until I was informed by the teacher that we should never....never....ummmmm...what was the word? Not mock, not tease....hmmmm....not...oh yeah...belittle our clients. By the way it is no longer patients.....CLIENTS. I don't know how I feel about saying "I gave my 10 year old, one handed client a bed bath today". It either sounds kinky or more along the lines of a prostitution??? I am not sure.

What I am sure of prostitutes probably make more money AND their income isn't taxed. Some other benefits would include that LPN's are probably exposed to more diseases vs a few STDS, 12 hour shifts vs one hour shifts, and being yelled at by egomaniac doctors vs being spanked lovingly by the egomaniac doctor and getting a c note tip left on the bedside table instead of a complimentary urine specimen in a cup left for the nurse, not too mention being on your feet all day vs...well I don't need to comment on that comparison.

So you say, why did you pick this vocation? Digging deep into my heart to find the answer to this puzzling question......I have no idea. Ugh. Maybe because it is the only thing I haven't tried?? I have no idea. From Dairy Queen to Vickers Gas Station Attendant to accounting in more than my share of factories, well, I still haven't found where I belong I guess.

L.P.N.= Low Paying Nobody. I have always held this title no matter where I have been employed but now I am dedicating the next 10 months, thousands of dollars, nights of reading fascinating chapters on sebaceous glands and pressure ulcers for what?

I don't know. Stay tuned and maybe I will come up with an answer.

If not, be prepared, you never know what might be next?? Mall cop? Town Crier? How about stray coin collector...you know...walking around looking in telephone booth coin return slots? Do they even have public phones that accept coins anymore? Maybe an official piglatin translator? The possibilities are endless!