I meant to post this earlier. It’s hanging above the trashcans at work in the employee bathrooms:

Thanks, Pam.

As much as I complain about work sometimes, it can be genuinely rewarding. I was in charge of the overnight shift Christmas Eve and played Santa (a scheme which involved a fair amount of lying and me running around the outside of the building making a good deal of noise using sleigh bells). The little kids woke up at 4 am before I could sneak their presents underneath the tree. “Santa” consequently rang the doorbell to the building and left their toys in the hallway for me to set out in their rooms; I couldn’t let him in, you see, because he’s not on anyone’s contact list and didn’t have proper identification on him. Oh and by the way, he says to stop spitting on people and exposing yourself. Yes, he really did say that.

I let them up a little bit early to open their gifts. And by “let them up”, I mean I kept them in bed for as long as humanly possible by using threats until it wasn’t feasible to do so anymore. The adolescents were well behaved. The little kids were manic; they were unmedicated fury honed in on wrapping paper. It was awesome.

Today was intravenous medication, physical interventions, complaints of hallucinations. The usual that shouldn’t be normal.

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