Short life update:
Working at a hospital clinic is awesome! I talked to a guy yesterday who is either delusional or having his life systematically ruined by a church he used to belong to. Last week I talked to a guy who didn't know what day it was. He honestly couldn't remember if it was Monday or Friday and was really angry he missed his appointment. Really angry. There are other more tragic things like STDs and death and STDs causing death, but I've probably already said too much.
It's a temporary job, though, and will be quickly coming to an end next month which means impending financial disaster. Again. Something will turn up, though, I'm sure. Or we'll go live in a basement or guest room somewhere. Giving up five years of job security eight months before a recession hits is probably a bad idea, in case you're ever wondering.
We're getting ready to go camping this weekend, which means I'll actually get to see more of Oregon than just Portland and I-5 (notice I did not say the five). Plus I get to hang out with some pretty rad people and be horrified by the things they throw in the fire. My dog is going on a doggy play date for the weekend since they don't allow dogs in the yurts at the campground, which means she'll come back exhausted and happy.
Speaking of exhausted, just physically getting ready for camping is physically exhausting me, which means that I'm probably not going to be able to ignore the signs my body is giving me for much longer the way I have for most of my life. Getting old is hell. Getting old with a degenerative nerve disease is just fucking depressing.
And, just so I don't end this (surprisingly long and personal for my standards lately) journal entry on a down note, in baking news I just pulled some butterscotch scones out of the oven that should be delightful for breakfast on Saturday.
Working at a hospital clinic is awesome! I talked to a guy yesterday who is either delusional or having his life systematically ruined by a church he used to belong to. Last week I talked to a guy who didn't know what day it was. He honestly couldn't remember if it was Monday or Friday and was really angry he missed his appointment. Really angry. There are other more tragic things like STDs and death and STDs causing death, but I've probably already said too much.
It's a temporary job, though, and will be quickly coming to an end next month which means impending financial disaster. Again. Something will turn up, though, I'm sure. Or we'll go live in a basement or guest room somewhere. Giving up five years of job security eight months before a recession hits is probably a bad idea, in case you're ever wondering.
We're getting ready to go camping this weekend, which means I'll actually get to see more of Oregon than just Portland and I-5 (notice I did not say the five). Plus I get to hang out with some pretty rad people and be horrified by the things they throw in the fire. My dog is going on a doggy play date for the weekend since they don't allow dogs in the yurts at the campground, which means she'll come back exhausted and happy.
Speaking of exhausted, just physically getting ready for camping is physically exhausting me, which means that I'm probably not going to be able to ignore the signs my body is giving me for much longer the way I have for most of my life. Getting old is hell. Getting old with a degenerative nerve disease is just fucking depressing.
And, just so I don't end this (surprisingly long and personal for my standards lately) journal entry on a down note, in baking news I just pulled some butterscotch scones out of the oven that should be delightful for breakfast on Saturday.
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I assume you are making cupcakes for camping?