Sunday, September 19, 2010

Old People= Advice + Love

The only thing worse than having a paper cut on your heart, is having one on your finger.

Let me explain: 

Since I turned sixteen, (and minus a brief period for 6 months) I have worked in nursing homes, assisted living places and retirement centers. Those three places have one thing in common: an abundance of old people (a.k.a. the elderly). Old people are known for (but not limited to) having extreme and polarized opinions about the lack of respect in the rising generation (a.k.a. teenagers), a noticeable lack of being able to feel heat (so of course the thermostat is set to 110 F) and an inexplicable urge to advise (read:: control) young people's decisions about everything. 

This is something that I am used to; on a daily basis I will be told how to do my hair, correct my posture and what major would be good for me. This is all part of the old person persona and everything is said with a dash of experience and a ton of love so I know they all mean well. They want the best for me, unfortunately what they think is the "best" is not always the "best" but that's neither here nor there.

Anyway, one of the unfortunate side effect is having them never react they way you expect. Sometimes it's an overreaction, sometimes an under-reaction and sometimes, it just doesn't make sense. Here are a few examples:

Me: I have a boyfriend.
Them: So, when are you getting married?

Me: I am an International Studies and Economics Major.
Them: How are you going to get married and have kids with that major?

Me: I am going to see my family next week.
Them: So you moved away just to get away from them? That is a terrible attitude. 

Me: I think I'm going to cut my hair.
Them:  You look like a boy with short hair, but get them to fix your bangs.

The most current example is from yesterday. I work in the kitchen or activities department for this current assisted living place and it makes for some interesting experiences because old people are picky when it comes to their food and entertainment. 

Yesterday, I worked both breakfast and lunch which means that I get up early in the morning. Because of this,   I generally don't put my contacts in, preferring to wait until I get home and take a shower before showing pieces of plastic in my eye. I wear glasses and generally look like a slob with my hair pulled up in a ponytail. Generally, I just get comments about how I am never going to get a husband or I look sick but yesterday, I got one of the funniest comments. 

As I went to ask what one of the residents wanted, she took a long look at me. At my hair, my glasses, my slumped posture, my giant (company provided) green shirt, my tan pants and worn out shoes and said: "You realize that you are a girl right?" 

I had two reactions I could have taken: a) be completely offended and never talk to her again or b) wait until I got back into the kitchen and laugh myself silly.

It may not surprise you to know that I chose option b. 

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

What used to be Toasty Tuesdays is now Terror Tuesdays

I have a friend (my family's usual response to this statement is You have a friend?!? as if me having a friend is like me having a fire-breathing unicorn for a pet) who started this tradition that on Tuesdays as a protest to winter (because winter comes early and often in Logan, Utah)  he would wear shorts. He called this tradition Toasty Tuesdays. It was something that I, as someone who can't handle the cold in the slightest, was unable to do. The one time I did it went something like this:

Scene:  My house preparing to leave for school.

* pauses at the door, and takes a deep breath. Then opens the door*


*slams door shut and goes to change clothes*

End Scene

So as you can see from my reaction. Toasty Tuesday was not my thing, but it become something of a phenomenon in which people would watch as he made his way across campus wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

Unknowingly, I decided to do the same this year. My Tuesdays are now called, "Terror Tuesdays" .

I have the worst schedule in which I spend less than ten minutes at my home for 12 hours. Here is my schedule for the day:

9:00-9:30 wake up, get ready go to the library
9:40-10:20 work on homework for the day
10:30-11:20 first class
11:30-2:30 go to work
3:00-4:15 second class
4:30-7:00 work again
7:00-9:00 third class
9:30 arrive home and fall exhausted on my bed. sleep comes immediately.

It's the worst day in the history of days, always made more complicated because things like my RS president calling me and saying lets do visit teaching! And me foolishly saying OK!

I definitely need a new brain.