Some Overdue Resolutions

Howdy y'all. As most of you know, I have been promising for the past couple of weeks to resolutely write a list of resolutions for 2008. Now that we are well within January, my list has ripened past fashionably late to procrastination purgatory. (In other words, I am turning the corner of "better late than never" and rapidly stampeding ahead to "why even bother".) So without further ado, I bring you the much anticipated (well . . . not really) list:

(1) I resolve to be more kind to myself. This means I also need to start taking better care of myself as well. For instance, I will be taking daily vitamins, not eat so much candy at work and eat lunch instead, attend regularly scheduled dental checkups and physicals. (I really can't say eat out less because, well, we rarely order pizza.) I will also *shudder* exercise for 10 minutes per day and work my way up. When the weather isn't unbearably cold and slippery, I will jog around the block. When it is too cold, or I am feeling too lazy, I will do simple things like pop in an exercise DVD for a few minutes and do some stomach crunches. I will also participate in an exercise activity at least once per week. If I skip a day of not working out, or eating too much candy, I will not beat myself up. I also will be able to learn the joys of the word "no".

(2) I resolve to explore more. This could mean more traveling up and down the East Coast while I'm here. It also means exploring Albany and Upstate New York more. Hun and I discovered a climbing gym. I hope to find some climbing buddies to help us explore the Gunks. I also want to be able to hike more in the Adirondacks to escape the heat in the summer. Hun and I already discovered the joys of apple picking, small towns, gardening, etc. I plan on trying my hand at snowboarding on the East Coast and definitely Hun and I will continue to cross-country ski. It's all out there, I just need to invest the time in finding stuff to do. Hun and I are planning a trip to Washington DC, and are totally stoked.

(3) I resolve to be a better housekeeper. This means I put things away after I am done with them, and keeping my surroundings other than my kitchen immaculate. (Hun is generally the more tidy of the two of us.) I will also go through my belongings every six months and purge anything we didn't use, view, or wear. I also resolve to be a better cyber-housekeeper to my blog, such as keeping my blogs tidy and regularly post. I also resolve to post on my other blog at least once per week and continue with Condiment of the Week. I will also post one personal list per week and start editing some of my video for youtube superstardom once per month.

Well, that is that. I didn't resolve this year to be more kind to others. I figure, if I take better care of myself and the time to spend with those who I care for, kindness will certainly follow suit. I'm used to usually placing my needs after others, and I should practice being selfish for a change. Overall, my life is pretty darn good--and I need to take more advantage of it. This might mean I might not be on Santa's Good Cowgirls list this year, but then again the old boy is a bit out of touch with the times. (I can't believe PETA hasn't gotten their claws in the jolly elf for reindeer cruelty, not to mention elf labor laws.)

Back in the Saddle Again

Howdy, y'all! I am back from XMas vacation in Colorado. It was a supreme delight visiting with relatives. I'm still spinning a bit from excess sugar consumption and the yummy goodness of decent Mexican food.

I also had to cram in some kiddo visits at work on Friday and setting up everything for a new set of kiddos on my caseload. It was also fun to chew the fat with my coworkers about their break and discuss Holiday cheer. I received multiple stockings filled with various cavity-inducing, high-caloric units (i.e. candy). They stood ready and waiting on my desk Friday morning.

I received some info from my boss regarding the kitty of the previous post and how to proceed. She said she believed the kitty probably belonged to someone and was a barn cat that had taken to me. Since the cat didn't look like it was hungry, and it had a collar with a bell on it, it probably belonged to someone. However, I will still be on the lookout for kitty this winter. If it looks longingly at me to provide some shelter, I received some helpful info from an anonymous commenter on a no-kill shelter in the area.

The commenter's comments were--well--colorful, the information was appreciated. (But not enough to actually publish them. Thank you, Blogger for comment moderation.) This leads me to a second point. It's rather interesting, I've been blogging for almost a year, and I sometimes write about work. I have yet to receive a comment about someone out there being outraged about human children being abused, neglected, you name it, on a daily basis. Granted, I don't write specifically about my kiddos. (I am not going to write anecdotes from work to spice up my blog. Other than violating the confidentiality taboo, I don't want to use my kiddos' life stories as ways to make the online community boo-hoo and whatnot.) But I sometimes discuss my frustrations with helping kids in the system. Do you know how many irate comments I've received about what kind of bitch I am for pulling kiddos out of foster homes and making teens take drug tests? Not one.

I write a post discussing an encounter with a cat, and I am the devil. I had to moderate a few comments off my blog, mentioning I should be very ashamed of myself for not subjecting Hun to allergic shock for bringing a cuddly car-riding cat home and an outright hostile "Merry Christmas, Bitch" when I didn't bring the cat to a no-kill shelter at 8:00 at night. (Well, I didn't mention that in my last post, I guess.)

This was a bit eye-opening to me as our value for humanity as a society. It kind of reminds me of Michael Moore receiving a lot of flack about including footage of an impoverished woman killing and skinning a rabbit for meat in Roger & Me. Moore mentioned he never received any comments about the footage of a kid getting shot while playing in the street in the next scene. Both scenes are acts of violence. Granted, I was horrified when I saw the rabbit got skinned. But other animals get slaughtered for our tables every day. Why was it that no one was concerned about the kid getting shot?

I'm sorry, kitty lovers, but I'm a bigger fan of people.

The story did tug at the heart strings a bit. The encounter definitely provided a great deal of internal conflict for me. I love animals. But one thing doesn't keep me awake at night: the kids on my caseload go to bed at night with a full stomach in a nurturing home. There is more money donated to PETA and other humane societies then there are to children's charities. You could argue that people can communicate for help and animals can't. Well, I would also argue that most kids can't either--they don't know how, or they don't know of other ways of living other than the chaotic environment they may face day in and day out.

So, kitty lovers out there, call me a bitch. That's what keeps my kiddos safe in a system that give more of a shit about paperwork than people. As far as the car-riding kitty, I'm still keeping an eye out there for him. And thanks for the heads up for the no-kill shelter Anonymous, even though you thought I did the wrong thing.

Everyone out there, have an awesome new year. I plan on working on being a bit more kinder to my neighbors, and to myself. Hugs and kisses to you all. As much as I rant, I am super lucky to have great family, loyal friends, strong women, and most of all Hun in my life.

Anyone want a cute, cuddly kitty?

Most of my friends know how anti-glurge I am. You know those massive e-mails folks send out, discussing how a seemingly insignificant act of kindness saved some one's life. (I'm sure most of you got the one about the kid who picked up some books a nerdy student dropped. He walks the nerd home and they become friends. When the kids graduate high school, the nerd thanks the kid for picking up his books because the nerd planned to off himself that day and the kid helped him appreciate the joy of living. Whatever. It is an incredibly fake story. It didn't happen. But I digress.) I'm about to spread some glurge of my own.

I completed a visit tonight with one of my foster families, and I was outside, chatting with the foster parent. I spied a cat--quite a frequent visitor at this home--sitting just outside the door, cuddled by the house to absorb the heat.

The parent commented about how a neighborhood cat wouldn't leave the property since I made the mistake of petting it this fall. The foster parent then talked about how she believed it was a neighbor's cat, but the cat seemed to go through the trash and didn't really leave the property. She said she wondered if the owners abandoned the kitty, or if they were just negligent.

During the foster parent's monologue, I was scratching the kitty behind the ears, between the eyes, at the base of its tail. The cat responded in kind and purred and kneaded the fence he was laying on. The cat looked at me longingly. I picked it up, and the cat cuddled under my coat, purring even louder and rubbing its forehead under my chin.

"How sad," I sighed, "no one loves this kitty."

"Oh, I think someone does," the foster parent corrected and lifted her eyebrows.

"Hun would kill me." The cat snuggled closer and the purr grew louder. I am so dead.

I walked to my car, rationalizing that it would be only for a night or two. I could plaster the pic of the adorable creature and someone would snag it in a moment. Who cares if Hun is deathly allergic and I would have to take him in to the emergency room tonight because he stops breathing.

. . . That is, if I survived the car trip home. (Cats are notoriously bad for having major nervous freakdowns when confronted with a car ride. Most cat "owners" transport their feline companions in kennels if they need to take them anywhere.) I carried the cat to the car, and opened the door. I sat down with the cat in my lap and the door still open, to give the creature a chance to escape if it would be too much. The kitty stretched off my lap and explored the back seat. I turn the ignition. The cat looks at me, asking me with its eyes what the hell am I waiting for. I shrug my shoulders and assume it is fate. I close the door and head down the road.

The cat sits down and gets comfortable in the back seat. Doesn't make a sound, doesn't try to claw out my eyes. It just sits there, enjoying the ride. I can't believe it.

I drive along the road, and the cat pads over and takes its throne on the front passenger seat and snuggles next to my bag. I realize Hun and I are traveling on Saturday and won't be home for over a week. Who will take care of kitty, when the furry creature is moved to unfamiliar surroundings? We don't have any friends who can feed and love it while we're in Colorado for Decemberween. I scratch behind its ears as I ponder the moral dilemma.

Do I take a creature and bring it to a place it's unfamiliar to--knowing full well that I couldn't permanently keep it? A shelter wouldn't be open now. My boss might have a better idea of who could take the cat in. The cat didn't look like it was starving, and it seemed to be savvy enough to keep warm. It would be wrong to take it to our house with no one to care for it over the week. I really wanted it, though.

Shit.

I turned the car around and drove it back to its trolling grounds. I stopped the car and opened the door. The cat looked at me again, asking me what the hell I was doing. I paused, wondering if there were any loopholes I missed in this dilemma. Unable to think of any, I picked up the cat and brought it outside. The cat leisurely scampered away into the night.

If anyone knows of a good cat-loving home in the Albany area or the Upper Hudson Valley, I would greatly appreciate it. I know of a good cat that enjoys random car rides with strangers. (I would also love to know the names and numbers of any area shelters--but I can google that.) I'm sure I will see the creature again. I will be making a plan in my head in case I face the same moral dilemma.

If you are the owner of a car-loving cat in the Upper Hudson Valley, then shame on you for keeping it out in the cold! I almost catnapped you pet! What if I were someone with malicious intent, hmmm?!

I feel guilty and heartbroken for leaving that kitty. I feel like Scrooge by doing nothing. But next time . . . well, I don't know what I'll do yet. I just need to figure that one out. Would it be better to leave the cat there, or to take it to a shelter or give it to someone else?

Return of the Son of Wintry Mix

Woke up this morning with about an 1/8th of an inch of ice glommed onto all outdoor surface areas. The main surface areas I was concerned about today were (1) my car and (2) the road. I had a packed day of a morning meeting with some bioparents and an out-of-state transport in the afternoon.

I slipped and slid, grabbing onto any less-slick objects to steady my balance as I heated my car and hacked off the ice from my windshield. I periodically checked the school closings, basically concluding that Upstate New York was closed due to the delightful weather outside, to warm up and to debate whether or not I should even attempt to leave the house. I thought about the 4-hour trek back and forth this afternoon. I (thankfully) was able to reschedule the appointment for later in the week.

I continued to hack away at the ice on my car, while some drizzly substance iced over onto my coat and hat, and liberally applied sidewalk salt to pave the way from our front door to my war-weary car. (Norma Jean has seen better days. As my mother would say, she looks road hard and put up wet.)

I call the social-service office once it opens to find out if my partners in crime plan on rescheduling the meeting. It's definitively decided that all are grounded, and folks should not risk coming in.

I am currently drinking a mug of joe and enjoying the free time available. Perhaps I will watch Die Hard, or some other Christmas movie while wrapping presents for Hun. Perhaps I will cyberstalk my friends, family, (and some strangers) as well. Bwahahahah!

Although this all sound comforting, I wish I could have gotten my appointments out of the way--but not enough to brave the icy shit splattered outside. The weather forecasts more icy shit this afternoon and evening, tapering off and clearing out for "ball sucking" cold tomorrow morning.

All I Want for XMas:

Dear Santa,

I think I've been a very good girl this year. I only received one speeding ticket this year, and I have paid it off. (Not only that, but I was FRAMED, I tell ya!) I have made lots of apple crisp this year and bought countless of McDonald's Happy Meals to help increase cholesterol levels for displaced foster children in the Hudson Valley. I have a few things to ask for this year, Santa. The list is as follows:

(1) World Peace. This is always a good way to start off a Christmas list. It helps the list maker not appear as selfish as she really is. I also am quite fond of the idea of all the children of the world receiving proper nutrition and clean drinking water. That goes without saying.

(2) Jack Bauer's Fists of Determination. With a menacing glare and a raise of the pinkie finger, the world would bend to my will. This would decidedly help with my XMas wish #1, although 24's Jack Bauer is decidedly not a very peaceful person. This would also help me brave any bureaucratic red tape at work, as well as managing New York driving in general.

(3) A new car. I would dearly love a new car. However, I would not dearly love a new payment. Hence, I will need to have one of my loving friends or rich strangers to give one to me. An Audi TT would work nicely for transporting toddlers back and forth to medical appointments and I am certain the gas mileage is wonderful . . .

(4) The sour chocolate milk smell emanating from my backseat in my current car to disappear. If I have not been good enough this year to deserve an Audi TT, a super-heavy bottle of ultra Fabreeze will do. I suppose I will make do with my 10-year-old Saturn with crapped-out shocks if I need to . . . but I would be disappointed.

(5) My pirated video system to actually work. Although I can import media, such as music and pictures onto my non-linear editing system, I have issues capturing footage onto my system to edit. I tried to upgrade my system with some free downloads. Now the program won't even open up, saying there is now a systems error. So much for youtube superstardom for right now.

(6) A cease and desist order for "wintry mix" weather in Upstate New York. I friggin' hate the icy shit that falls from the sky. Upstaters are in some serious denial that "wintry mix" constitutes a "Winter Wonderland". There is nothing wonderful about it. It does prove, however, that Hell--indeed--does freeze over.

(7) Time with friends and family. I am very excited about heading back to Colorado for Christmas and seeing my friends and family. I really miss them. My coworkers are good company--they don't compare to my dear friends back in Colorado. As Dorthy said (or was it Nietze?), "There's no place like home."

(8) An indoor swimming pool. Although, I think our landlord might be upset. (Dog would be in snake heaven.) I guess I need to settle for finding an indoor swimming pool after Christmas. (See future blog entry regarding a list of New Year's resolutions.)

(9) Sunlight. We don't get much sunlight here. It is mostly gray and threatening icy shit. It usually--like typical New Yorkers--doesn't carry out the promise. It does cast an atmosphere of gloom and general malaise. I used to look forward to cloudy days in Colorado because it meant a change in weather, and some much-needed moisture. Here, the cloudy weather just sucks one's soul dry. No wonder Upstaters are cranky. At least NYC has Times Square.

(10) The perfect job. I would like a job closer to where I live, so I don't have to commute over two hours a day. I would also like a balance of using my brains to solve problems, some multi-tasking so I don't get bored, and nice people who don't yell at me about things I cannot control. Any ideas are greatly appreciated. (Again, see future New Year's resolutions blog.)

This is all I ask for Santa. It's not too much. Give me a Holla when you roll down our chimney!

Betty

Thank You Very Much

Hun and I just returned from a short trip to visit the in-laws in the Land of Cleves, as my brother-in-law puts it, and we are now ten pounds heavier. We hit some weather on the way to Ohio and back. We enjoyed watching the last of the autumn leaves drop to the ground while driving to Ohio and the snow falling while eating out Thanksgiving dinner at Hun's aunt's and uncle's house. I visited with various in-laws and got to hold squiggly crawlers and discuss the fashion philosophies of Barbie to 4-year-olds. I also accepted that I am not nearly as cool as my sister-in-law when it comes to coloring, playing Barbies, or . . . well . . . anything and everything for that matter.

We are anxiously awaiting our trip to Denver to celebrate the Holidays and see actual mountains--rather than the hills they call mountains in New York. I don't know if I will get a chance to snowboard while in Colorado, considering the season hasn't started out well. At least they have snowboarding in New York. However, there is no comparison once you've ridden the champagne powder on the Colorado slopes. (Can I get more elitist?) But beggars can't be choosers. It's either snowboarding or starting smoking to catch some adrenaline rush. I hadn't hit the slopes once last year.

I also am remiss on updating my latest blogging project. I plan on making it more interactive, but have yet to figure out how to do it. People seem to be quite shy. I need to put it more out there. Perhaps I can film a vlog, capturing the opinions of Albany Christmas Shoppers about their first time being in love, or when they knew it was all over. Any suggestions are greatly appreciated. It's a work in progress. (Perhaps it's not as sexy as the mini-doc I did in grad school about the Vietnam War, but hey--I gotta start somewhere.)

I'm getting more random hits on this blog per day. I'm pretty sure all ten of them are my personal friends, and I'm upset they aren't more religious about checking my blog anytime I release my pearls of triviality to grace cyberspace. (I'm just kidding. You know who you all are, and you know I love you deeply. So quit frowning.)

It seems people have more of a penchant for personal tragedy--not too tragic, mind you. Something people can easily relate to an say, "Gee, that's a mega-heinous outfit/work story/cooking experiment. There but the grace of God go I, as I am intellectually superior/culturally savvy/street smart/really, really ridiculously good looking."

Another confession . . . I am super addicted to youtube superstar, William Sledd, of Ask a Gay Man. Some of his vlogs about his latest trip to NYC or drinking exploits on Halloween I could skip. But his hatred of painter pants and sweat pants is high-larious. You should check it out.

Hun and I finished watching Series 4 of 24, enjoying the Jack Bauer uber-manliness. I am very thankful of the series writers/producers for sequestering Jack's be-hated daughter, Kim, to Arizona to raise a family with the forgettable Chase. I'm a closet Chloe fan myself, personality disorder and all.

Wow. There is a whole lotta nothing going on with me. Umm . . . I'm done with Christmas shopping . . . I could talk about the mountain of work I need to do, but that isn't anything new or glamorous. I drove over 300 miles today for a work-related appointment. I have an adoption worker who is wanting me to make some serious custody decisions I know I have no authority making because she doesn't have the balls to make the tough call she knows she has to abide to for the betterment of the greater good and--oh ya--New York State child law.

Weehaw.

Betty

The Joys of Modern Technology

Sorry for the dearth of posts, but I have been curtailed at the prospect of youtube video stardom. Hun offered to download some nonlinear editing freeware off the internet. As a result, he also downloaded some kind of virus. I am fortunate to have such a great husband who is willing to waste hours of valuable study time so I can have my artistic dream. Unfortunately, the virus is quite, well, virulent and we can't seem to shake it off Hun's computer.

My campaign for a new computer continues, but it has been dampened a bit. Hun and I got trapped when his truck got towed by one the more virulent parasites haunting Albany. We parked in the McDonald's lot off of Pearl Street to go to dinner across the street. A tow company in town hire scouts to post at various locations to wait for people to park there, and then get their car towed a few minutes later. The scout gets a kickback from the tow and storage fees. We were in the restaurant for a half hour. I so fucking love this town.

That, combined with a speeding ticket I received about a month ago, and us registering our driving license to NY State, it set us back a pretty penny, and Christmas is around the corner. Therefore, we will be adults and delay some gratification for a couple of months.

Once Hun's computer is back on line, I will abscond with it when the weather turns crummy and I'm stuck at home working through a Nor'Easter.

More postings later . . .

Betty

Christmas Cold

Well, I guess I am given a cold for the the Holidays this year. Not that's any surprise, considering I've climbed over a stress-hump at work and have a chance to breath and ponder my surroundings.

Hopefully I'll be mostly recovered next weekend. Hun and I plan on touring the City (note, the ONLY city for New Yorkers). We've been quite active lately as far as social plans are concerned. We were blessed with a housewarming by a couple of friends of mine from Colorado. They stopped by for a night or so, and brought their little nugget of joy. She is one of the most mellow baby I've ever met, well, like anyone, she got a bit cranky when she was hungry. It was also quite amazing how such a small package could create such thunderous farts. If the Department of Energy could harness that energy, we wouldn't need foreign oil. We thought Nugget was fabulous and we loved the company, as stressed out as Hun and I were.

We're missing all the White Christmas in Colorado this year. The state shut down for a few days. QT wasn't able to get a flight in time, as well as Nugget and her handlers, so will be spending the Holidays on the East Coast, all be they different respective places.

Well, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Betty

Recovering

I'm starting to recover a bit from my work vomit. All in all, a much better week. I actually had a mild thought of how to improve the coming year. I only have two resolutions for 2007 (well, maybe more, but I'm trying to keep it simple):

(1) Take care of myself. That means dying my gray hair and plucking my eyebrows on a regular basis. I might even venture out and add lip gloss to my regime. In general, I will be making more of an effort to keep up my appearance. That way, I might feel better about myself in general and spurn productivity. (This also means exercising more than once a week and eating lunch on a regular basis.) The difficulty is to be religious about this, even when the chips are down.

(2) Make friends. Perhaps joining a book club, yoga class, etc. will spur me to be social vs. working overtime and spurning others. This is kind of part II of "Take care of myself," but if I can't take care of me, how am I expected to take care of others.

Why this sudden change of heart? If I want to keep my job, I need all the stress outlets I can get, and I'm not getting the kind of camaraderie I was hoping for at work (read my facebook note for more insight). I am drowning a bit in East Coast culture shock (a.k.a. second-hand smoke malaise and enmeshment-centered corporate culture) and I gotta start swimming. Dammit all! I will find an evergreen in Albany!

Holidays Schmolidays

The Holidays, when all your external stressors and internal neuroses get to slam-dance the days away until you: (a) collapse in an emotional stupor resembling the psychosis of the unreached potential similar to non-coagulating Jello, (b) deeply disappoint/offend those around you by buying them the ipod Nano in the wrong shade of cream and/or not responding to impersonal X-mas tides of joy and world peace, (c) all of the above and embarrass yourself and loved onces by numbing the pain of childhood's dashed dreams by imbibing too much Jim Beam eggnog.


Being in human services, the Most Wonderful Time of the Year is a time when kids and foster folks alike go a bit off the deep end. Combined with the fact this will be my first Christmas away from home--and not having enough time to develop superficial friendships to assuage the absence of close, longtime friends almost 2000 miles away, makes December a bit of a shitter month.


Of course, this is nothing in compared to the challenges my kiddos on my caseload face every day and all the heartache in the world. Nor is it any excuse to complain, compared with those who have lost loved ones--I imagine Christmas hits them especially hard.


At least my job keeps me on my toes. If anything, I don't feel lonely when I get home. More or less, I feel the opposite. Usually, it's, "If one more person comes to me and bitches/whines/emotionally vomits/even says 'have a nice day,' I'm gonna friggin' scream." I realize there are points when it's really active, and I'm putting out a lot of fires, I hit my don't-give-a-shit mode. At the end of the day, I'm so tired of "fighting the good fight," hearing about folks' turmoils, and dealing with the general lunacy of the human race that I want to sit down, stare at a blank television set, and eat Ramen.


I also have a tendency to blog in run-on sentences.


Hun has been very understanding, and I've been trying to put in more effort towards us. I've been baking cookies tonight while he's studying and he's been supporting me and my trials. I supposed it would be even more rocky a Christmas if he wasn't around. All in all, living with Hun has been easier than expected. Granted, we had a few arguments here and there, and both of us had to give up some of our urges and singledom habits, but I enjoy coming home to Hun every night. With Hun, I know everything will be alright.


Oh well, I still wish peace on earth and good will towards men. If anything, it might stop all those liberal media types boo-hooing about that whole Middle East Crisis and third-world starvation thing. Anywho, happy Holidays. I might even return to a state of a content human being after New Year's.

Cheers,

Betty

New Toys and Old Songs

Like all spoiled children the day after Christmas, I love playing with new toys. The idea of pumping out my home-spun wisdom (mostly snap judgements, but it's my blog, I can lie if I want to) out to the cyberverse makes my narcissistic toes tingle.

All in all, a typical day. I got to work early this morning to to turn out some much overdue paperwork--discussing the life, times, sexual proclivities, and the latest parental disappointments of the kiddos on my caseload--before being confronted by my new supervisor about my files being out of date. I smile sheepishly during supervision, yes, I know, getting my files in order is top priority, especially since I have only three weeks to complete them and to train my successor about the intricacies of being a professional hard-ass. (I received a sincere compliment of a group-home foster parent, known throughout the state for taking girls everyone else has given up on, that I was the biggest bitch she had the pleasure of working with.)

I catch up with my therapist friend about a heart-pouring meeting between a set of foster parents at their wits end, a director, and myself. We discuss, analyze, and gossip about office politics--human services aren't immune for the cruciality of successful employees being "in the know." My family-centered agency also has its dysfunctions bordering on incestuous and flat-out unprofessional. But hey, who's more neurotic than a room full of therapists and social workers? The desire to know thyself has to come from somewhere . . .

I talk with a veteran case manager about supervision with my new boss. We talk about her new position she accepted at a county agency as a caseworker. (Like many human service agencies--both county and government--turnover is rampant. It's a field expectation for 50 percent of new hires to quit after six months.) She talks about how she will miss all her families and her worries of starting over. I reassure her she will be fantabulous, and berate her for ruining my exit gusto by leaving a week before I do.

Lunch is over in a flash, I throw down more case notes before hitting the trail. I hit my group home and hold two staffings, when caseworkers contact the kids and are debriefed and debrief, plans are set and I race to my uninvited meeting with my wits-end foster family. Stuff is said, everyone cries, everyone hugs, and I stop back at work to complete some more notes. The optimist in me gets teary-eyed thinking about my latest meeting, and the cynic in me believes all the love and communion will be forgotten by the weekend. By the by, the whole situation is like an old Hank Williams song.

I return the Call of the Hun (my fiance) and whine about my day and he bolsters my spirit. He discusses the joys of class and the benefits of publication. He, in turn, whines about the final edits of his master's thesis. I tell him I look forward to getting a new job, where the possibilities are endless, and he tells me he looks forward to me arriving in New York. My toes curl and I yurn. Over the past couple of years, Hun is where my heart is, no matter how fancy Paris seems. The whole situation is like an old Patsy Cline song.

So, three weeks and counting until I end my job. Four weeks and counting until I start my new life with Hun.

All in all, a typical day.