Well.
The new occupation has commenced.
I am now a part time nanny for my cousin's kids.
"Everybody seems to be nanny-ing. That's a popular thing."
-someone I know, but can't remember who.
Hurrah.
Well, I still call them kids and have not yet felt like I was attacked by monsters. I'm expecting it to happen. Waiting. I'm sure it will. But so far, I still haven't felt too bothered by anything. Except that I feel like I'm not doing anything. I'm not feeling tortured every morning at 7:45 am when I wake up to go to an 8am shift. Because that doesn't happen anymore. And I'm wondering if it's a problem that it doesn't ruffle my calm one bit when I'm standing on a street corner with a 1.5 year old in a wagon and a four year old lying on the ground crying because he can't go to his friend's house. Should I try to sound upset? Maybe I'm just in a daze because I've just made a few drastic changes in my life and I woke up in someone else's bed (the someone else is in Greece) and then ate cereal sitting next to a headless film-stunt dummy as we, or really I watched people come and go in a parking lot. I feel all twiddle-thumbish because I'm not spending my mornings running a restaurant. I feel like I should go back to the grill and set up a play pen in the corner so that I can nanny and grill 150 chicken breasts for a football team dinner and learn more Russian.
It's good to change.
It just takes me a while to adjust.
A long while.
I enjoyed reading about Cowboy Slim today. He taught me some new lingo, "That's a dinger!"
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