"He was my son for awhile, but due to my complicated sex life it turns out it's just best to think of him as a tiny associate."

I find it interesting the two jobs I've most enjoyed are ones that I am essentially being paid (very very poorly) to be a stay at home mom.  But just somewhere else.  

10 years at the group home.  School pick ups and drop offs, snack and homework time, constant processing of social norms, doctors and dentist appointments, games, dinner, clean up, showers, story time, tucking into bed, vacuum and clean the house.  Pretty sure that's the definition of stay at home mom.  Except, you know, they weren't my kids and it wasn't my home.  

The second job I enjoy is being a hotel maid.  I know, my ambitions are to the moon right?  Hear me out.  I worked at a hoity toity bed a breakfast, and a hundred and seventy year old "haunted" hotel.  (I never saw shit for ghosts, but I'm not going to crap on other people's beliefs.)   Cleaning bedrooms and bathrooms all day is stay at home mom to a T.  

Here's the thing though.  The group home bit was very very hard.  Emotionally, and when there was a restraint, physically.  But it was active, we were always on the move, and when it was rewarding, it was very very rewarding.  Like tear up and have fuel for another month of getting beat up by small children.  But.  I don't want to do that anymore, it did become too hard.  The hotels however....

I got a job.  My old job actually.  At the haunted hotel.  I'm working Sundays, with the occasional other day thrown in if there's someone to watch G.  I just had my first full weekend working, and I'm exhausted, (there's a shit ton of stairs) but I loved it!  

You get there, and the people stumble out of their rooms, rubbing their eyes, and grabbing coffee and a muffin, shuffle back in.  It's check out time and you enter the rooms, chaos.  Where's the key? Bedding on the floor, towels everywhere, dishes and take out boxes from the night before, toothpaste in the sink.  You strip the beds, get the towels, mountains of laundry form in the maid's room.  Grab crisp white sheets and towels, a bucket of chemicals and gloves, and head back to the rooms.  Clean the bathroom, set out towels, tiny shampoos and soaps, make the bed, tucking the sheets in as tightly as you can, smoothing the duvet until it's just right.  Dusting, cleaning, vacuuming, mopping, wiping down.  

It's busy.  Like BUSY.  You don't have much time to ready the room for the next person.  But you do it.  As fast and as thorough as you can.  I walked through the completely turned hotel on Sunday with the Innkeeper.  All was quiet except the washer and dryer, no one had checked in yet.  There were freshly bleached towels and sheets folded neatly in piles.  The rooms smelling of lemon furniture polish, they are a sight to see.  They have to be, you can't get more low tech and bare bones; there's no TVs, no phones, mostly double beds, some of them have unattached bathrooms!  The floors are so crooked it's like walking on a ship at sea, the boards creak with every step I take.  Not to mention they reside atop a very loud bar.  We provide ear plugs for crap sake!  But it's all calm, peaceful.  The exact opposite of what it had been a few hours earlier.  My back hurts and I'm fairly certain I have shin splints, (lawd I'm old) but these rooms are gorgeous.  

You can't get much more instant gratification out of a job.  You start the project in the morning and you're (hopefully) done by the time you leave.  You've exercised pretty much the whole day.  And it's visually very satisfying.  I don't know how to balance my.....easily satisfied sense of accomplishment with the fact I'm 34 years old and should probably get a real fucking job. You know, one that pays money instead of bread crumbs?  But for right now I'm just going to bask in this, and appreciate that I'm able to ease my way back into the working world after my 4 year absence.

*My quote is from Get Him To the Greek.  I love Russel Brand.  His comedy hour I saw like 4 years ago was hilarious.  I could watch this movie about 100 times.  Warning, there's barf.  It's worth it though and only at the very end.

This is like me and kickboxing.  Like, I don't do a bunch of coke.  But I'm really excited about it and force my loved ones to go with me.  'You know, for our friendship!'