Isn't life grand? And yet, isn't it crazy?

Here I am, another month or two gone before I remember that I do have a blog that I'm trying to maintain. I don't know why I forget. I suppose for the same reason I forget the journals I'm keeping for my kids. I usually get about one entry a month. I suppose that's ok, it will certainly be interesting reading once they are grown since it won't be the everyday, mundane "you ate, you slept" type stuff. I'd like to do better, really I would. Some days I think the OCD has given way to ADD and I just can't remember my own name. LOL

Things are going well for the most part for my family. I got a job. I got another job. I quit the first job because the second job was offering more hours and better money. C'est la vie. The husband got a job, praise Jesus! It's a huge pay cut. Huge. Enormous. Gigantic. But it's day shift, and he only works about 45 hours a week. This means we see him in the mornings, we see him in the afternoons, he is home with us at night, and he has every other weekend off. I forgot how much I enjoyed his company. (no, really I didn't...but it's one of those things that for the last few years I've told myself we could do it, seeing him a few hours on Saturday was enough... yeah, I lied. A lot.)

I'm working 3 days a week, which often feels more like 7 days a week! My days aren't full of manual labor, but my job is very mentally intensive. I have to focus my mind and all my attentions on my patients and what they did, will do, and need to do. Once my shift is over, it becomes all about the paperwork. I'm finding that the problem with the whole insurance debacle is not fraud, it's the insurance companies contracting out the work, and so the poor patients are paying the insurance company and the contractor ...neither of which care what the patient could do before or wants to do after. Gah. And none of the contractors are in the USA, which means we spend hours upon hours of time trying to speak with someone that doesn't speak English as a native language, over stupid things like why my patient that had a stroke and rotator cuff surgery needs to come more than 4 visits!!

I digress. (see, ADD. I'm telling you.)

(but self diagnosis is bad.)

I'm going to try and get more organized now that I'm at a regular job with regular (hah!) hours, and things are sort of simmering down. Which hopefully means more time for introspection and working on myself too.

In the words of my 8 year old daughter... peace, love, and hope, dudes!