Monday Day 24

It's day 24 of NaBloPoMo and I am feeling the burn. I can't get away with another montage and am struggling with words right now. Maybe instead of complaining about 3-year-olds and their quirky momma hating ways I will blog about me or my cat or something ...

I have been really having some "I want a dog" cravings lately. Three things keep me from hopping over to the humane society and fulfilling my dreams: 1. I have no money to pay for or care for a dog 2. I work one full-time job plus babysit a night or two a week so would neglect said dog and 3. my yard has just this summer recovered from Sassy dog

There are days when I just hate people. I really do. So the fact that I am a social worker whose office is one entire floor of an old building, shared with about 20 other people (no cubicles even) really sucks sometimes. It used to be easy for me to find the good, the vulnerable, the innocent, the hurting in people who on the surface seem really broken and sometimes criminal ... nowadays I can find it challenging.

I can easily get sucked into Tetris. It isn't good. Hand-held electronic yahtzee is another vice

Marshmellow fluff. Love it.

My cat is named Azazel. She was named after an evil character from a Denzel W. movie (I don't even remember the movie). I named her that in a lame attempt to shift fate as the cat I had before her was named Angel and well she didn't always live up to that name. I personally think Azazel is the sweetest cat ever, some others are afraid of her ... I think they are wrong wrong wrong.

I have never been to Mexico and I really think my agency should send me as a cultural learning opportunity since most of my clients are from there.

Although I am fairly fluent in Spanish and do most of my homevisiting in Spanish, and have been doing so for years AND my clients all have young kids and many many of them have infants that I enjoy coveting whenever possible I still find myself unable to say (in Spanish) "can I hold her/him?" ... after a couple weeks with me as their worker they usually just hand said infant over and I find that holding my hands out while saying "por favor" works pretty well.

I am scared of racoons. I am also quite unfond of spiders. OH and wild monkeys scare the *hit out of me and once blocked me on a bridge in Thailand, I did NOT like that. The words "monkey mountain" can elicit some cold sweats.

Somehow twice (by accident) Lucy and I ended up eating at a small town cafe (on the way to visit friends in Bemidji) that doubled as a gun shop. That scared me. Pancakes taste different in a gun shop.