Well, it’s official: I’ve got a job. A real job. Not a writing job where I sit around in my pajamas and write. Or think about writing. This is a part time job at a local animal hospital. I get to wear scrubs. Which are basically pajamas for professionals.
If I have to work, this is the perfect job. A few nights a week, a couple of weekends a month, one holiday a year. I’ll be working at the desk, doing work similar to what I do at the shelter plus some more: answering phones, filing, checking people in/out, getting rxs ready. I’m assured I will not have to do math in my head. (They dodged a bullet with that one.)
I’ll start next week with some day shifts so I can get trained – my new boss asked if I could work Wednesday from 7 to 12. She laughed when I asked, “Seven in the morning?” I guess that’s a good sign.
I also get discounts on some pet services or meds, which will come in handy as we continue to test Scout and then treat for whatever it is that’s causing him all of these problems. (I’m still hoping it’s not the worst case.)
So there you go: Mommy, the head looney at the Funny Farm, is going to help bring in some money to keep the three ring circus running at maximum capacity. In addition, I don’t know if I told you that I’m hoping to apprentice with a local dog trainer. I’m very excited about that. I really like her and I think she’s a great trainer and I can learn a lot. I start by observing classes in the evenings.
I hope darling husband is ready; I don’t think he realizes how much work he’s going to have to so. Starting next week, when all three days I work he’ll have to be up to feed the dogs and get them out before he leaves. Be careful what you wish for!