Confession: I have a strange personal satisfaction with reading comments of CBC news articles and agreeing or disagreeing with them. It is almost as satisfying as voting. Which I did, at exactly 7:59pm tonight, one minute before the polls closed. After I had turned in my ballot I celebrated with a fist pump and a "YES! I made it."
Sam Katz won by a 20,000 majority....but I have been consoling myself by disagreeing with all the narrow minded comments on CBC.
Have you noticed that I have just expressed a rather blatant political opinion on my blog? Usually I avoid controversy and stick to the middle ground. Jennie is growing up.
In other important news, I found out that Halloween costumes are mandatory for work on Friday. I am thinking of ideas for a cheap costume that has a creative element, and does not scream status quo. It's a tough road.
This week's funny story at the nursing home:
While playing Bingo, a rogue resident wheeled herself around the tables during one of the games, and pulled a tablecloth off the table, which in turn knocked the dishes onto the floor, fully disrupting the exciting Bingo game. The dedicated staff worker that I am, I engaged the situation with attempts at bribery and begging, urging the resident to give back the tablecloth which she had tied around the arms of her wheelchair and connected to a chair. The resident began pulling the chair behind her in noisy semblance of delight. Despite my pleas for the resident to hand over the tablecloth, she denied my request with an air of stubborn indignation and a few words that will not be repeated. After exhausting my list of reasons why this lady should give me back the tablecloth, and to no avail, I had an inspiration. I admitted that I was interested in the tablecloth for business related reasons, and that I would be very interested in undergoing a trade for the tablecloth. The resident responded that such a trade would only be acceptable if she were able to see the item that would be given in exchange. I faltered. But only momentarily, for I remembered where the hand towels were kept. I offered the resident a crisp, white hand towel, freshly laundered, and still slightly warm. The trade was completed successfully, and the tablecloth was returned with no bloodshed, and only a slight prickle of sweat, and trickle of tears. On my part.