SICK AND TIRED

The thing about working for the census, Gentle Readers, is that it all comes in one huge rush. All those people to train and send out knocking on doors because you, Gentle Readers, did not return the form you received in the mail.

Of course, I don't mind that you didn't return your form. Your lack of desire, motivation, your procrastination, or whatever - it gave me a job. So I thank you.

But I am tired.

Currently we are allowed to work 45 hours per week. It is late Thursday night, or actually early Friday morning, and I haven't finished Thursday's quality control. I don't mind doing the work, but I have already reached a little more than 40 hours for the week, which doesn't end until the end of the day on Saturday. So somehow I have to do the 20 hours or so of work required on Friday and Saturday in about four hours.

Hmmmmm . . . .

As some of you already know, I had a car accident last year and broke my back in five places. The orthopedist I saw in the state where I used to live said I should expect to have some back pain for the rest of my life.

Unfortunately, the pain suddenly increased on March 20th. Today I saw a new orthopedist in the state where I now live. He said the only reason for the pain to return in such force is that my back didn't heal completely. He is scheduling me for an MRI to confirm his belief. Or maybe he'll find out he's full of it and something else is wrong or maybe my back is just going to hurt when I sit in an uncomfortable chair all day - as I did on March 20th - or when I lift too much.

I'm not supposed to lift more than a pound. Ha! I doubt if my purse weighs less than a pound. Not many things I need to lift weigh less than a pound.

Fortunately, I can definitely lift my son's young lady friend's chihuahuas. They are very cuddly little boogers.

Now let's all go to bed and dream of boogers.

If you awaken with your finger in your nose, then you'll know what you were dreaming about.

Love,

Lola