I mentioned before that I work at a daycare center for old people.  It really is a cushy job, especially as CNA jobs go.  My hours are 10 AM to 3 PM.  Isn't that just the greatest?  And even if I did work more hours, it would still basically be a regular 9-to-5 kind of deal.  I think many CNAs would agree that jobs like that in this field are few and far between.  So I really lucked out there.  

An average day goes something like this: When I arrive at 10 AM, most of the people have already arrived, and had coffee and a muffin.  They are usually in a big circle watching one of those morning news shows full of cooking demonstrations, tips about what to wear and how to stop being fat, and just about no news.  Soon after I arrive, I either help people to the bathroom, or turn off the crappy TV and lead a group discussion and old people exercise session.  I definitely prefer toileting.  Seriously, helping a bunch of sweet old people deal with their normal bodily functions is much easier for me than sitting in front of a whole group of 80-something black people that grew up in a big city.  My white Mormon Utah suburbanite upbringing just shines through as I struggle to find one thing to talk about that they can relate to.  I usually skip right to exercise after making sure they know what the date is and what the weather is like outside.  Conversing with them one at a time is not such a challenge for me.  I think some of them actually take to me because I am a little different from the others that work there.  Maybe they just think my accent or some of the words that I use are funny (no one carries a purse here.  It's always a "pocketbook").  But when I get up in front of the group, they all just sit and stare at me like I am from a different planet.  Not my favorite thing about work.

Today we played stick ball after our exercises, which is basically hitting a ball around on the floor with sticks covered in foam.  I have to laugh at that game.  It always seems like a bunch of the people who won't play (usually because they have Alzheimers and don't know what's going on) end up right by each other in the circle, so any time the ball goes to their little section, it just sits there.  I have to keep getting up and getting the game moving again.  Then there's the sections where a whole bunch of fairly aggressive players end up sitting, and they're always trying to beat each other out at the number of times they hit the ball.  Finally, there's always those couple of people who want to play, but they are maybe not so quick with the reflexes, or they are sitting next to one of those pretty aggressive players, so they just sit there, getting excited every time the ball comes near, only to be beat out by their neighbor.  Today, I watched all this while the man next to me asked, "Are you Polish?"  "No, I'm not Polish."  "I've been to Poland," he said.  "That's so great", I replied, getting up to get the game moving again.  Every couple of minutes, we would repeat this conversation.  "Are you Polish?"  "Nope, my ancestors are mostly from England."  "I've been to Poland"... and so forth.  Very cute.  After all that there's lunch, more toileting, and more activities.  I think I already went on too long about my job so I'll just stop there and leave it at that.

Old people are so cute.