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July 29, 1998
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I keep trying to get out of bed early and get to work on time, really I do. I just never succeed. By the time I got there, Roberta had stacked up all the dirty litterboxes and dishes in front of the sink so I had to climb over them. There are two separate plastic bags from the sick room, one with a single litter box and one with two. Which has the ringworm? Better take precautions for everything. There are three teenage volunteers getting in each other's way and mine whenever they try to do something. It never fails that every time I bend over the sink to fish something out from the bottom or lean on the bottom for extra scrubbing leverage, somebody bumps into my butt on the way into the laundry room. I'm stepping on litterboxes, people are stepping on me, Roberta is vacuuming even though all the cages aren't done. I feel like I am in the way. Grrrr. Eileen calls and wants to talk to me. One of the teenagers hands me the phone before I get a chance to dry my hands. She asks about the next newsletter and then tells me to go look at Jaguar's cage. What? There's an adoption application pending form on the clipboard. Jaguar? Somebody applied to adopt Jaguar? Wow. I ask Dawna about it. Yup, it's true. Some lady came in and fell in love with Jaguar. It won't be the same place without him, but I'll be very glad he's in a nice home with someone who loves him. Today's entry is a little short partly because I'm tired and partly because I put all of today's quota of writing energy into a catch-up entry for june 25 'cause I wanted to write something about cormorants. I put in a little time on some of the other incomplete entries too. Someday this journal will perk up again and seem like less of a chore. |
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