So. I work Friday through Sunday, usually alternating between one day and two days per weekend. But which days within the weekend I work hasn't been the same yet. Meanwhile, B works Saturdays, but not every Saturday. He also works Sunday afternoons periodically, since he either gets overtime or comp time for them. Essentially, chances are good that any given day of the week, one of us is working. But not the same days every week. Our household schedule is different every single week.

It's official: I no longer have any idea what day of the week it is. There is not a single bit of regularity in my weekly schedule to let me know what day it is. I can't even count on church since I can't go to church the Sundays I work. I've been sitting here most of the evening, convinced that it's Sunday. Or possibly Thursday, or a week from next Tuesday. It's all a blur at this point.

Meanwhile, I've been working for a month but haven't gotten paid yet. I can't get paid because my child abuse clearance hasn't come through yet. And why hasn't it come yet? Because they sent it back to me today (after over two weeks) claiming I didn't include information that I had written on an additional page, THE WAY THEY TOLD ME TO. Why tell people to write down information that doens't fit on the form on an additional page if you're not going to look at it? Grrr. For all that I complain about how little I'm getting paid, I really need that pittance. And now I'm likely going to have to wait another two weeks before I can even go in to get my employment forms taken care of.

I'm still really enjoying work though. Not quite enough to do it as a volunteer, but it's fun. Weeding an ancient collection is bound to throw up some real gems. For instance, today I found myself inexplicably transfixed by Trudy Wells R.N., Pediatric Nurse. Can Nurse Wells convince the childless millionaires to adopt an older child instead of buying a baby on the black market? Sadly, I'll have to wait until next week to find out.

I also recently found a guide to disco dancing. And believe it or not, I decided to keep it. It had a pretty comprehensive instruction section on ballroom dance, so it was worth keeping, despite the fact that it also had instructions for twelve different version of the Hustle and scary scary pictures of a man wearing the finest seventies polyester and sporting a moustache that needs to be covered up in public in case it frightens small children and horses.

My mother and brother are arriving tomorrow. Yay!