After 13 years of service, my dishwasher (that I've been hating for the last year) has sprung a leak. Hallelujah! I like the way it looks. I even like how it fits all my stuff in nicely. I just don't like residue. I've been experimenting with different detergents and pre-rinsing and good gravy...I've even taken the dad-blame thing apart twice. Myself. With my Tomboy Tools and the directions I found on the Repair Clinic. I got it all back together too-the right way. But it's just not been working right and I've been whining about it. Muh Main Man has valiantly been ignoring my blubbering, but tonight the sorry thing had mercy on me and sprung a leak. It landed on Muh Main Man's head in the basement and wah-lah...he's commissioned me to pick out a new one tomorrow. Weird that just as the thing is heading out the door, I'm starting to like it!
It's been a long time in coming, but as of this morning, I'm no longer a medical transcriptionist. I'm not sure how I feel about that...a little bit relieved, a little bit sad, a lot bit uncertain about whether I'll regret this decision. For the last year or so, I've found that the transcription work isn't fulfilling the need I once had to stay at home with my babies and have an income. I've increasingly felt that I need more interaction and less monotony. I've also felt the pressure of work that constantly needs to be done, with no sense of ever being really "finished." No matter how much work you've done for the day, there's always another note waiting to be transcribed. That goes for sick days, holidays, vacations days or any kind of days. This year, I've dabbled in substituting as a school monitor and office staff, and kind of found my niche in the last few weeks. I'll be working a couple of hours a day in one of the ...
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