Old People Make Me Happy

I don't really take care of my computer. Seriously, I haven't ran a scan in like over 30 days. (Of course I would not be surprised if by over 30 days that it is actually over 60 days.) So my brother, Kyle, came home this weekend and looked at my computer and said, "You really don't care about your computer at all." But, my dear friends, just because I apparently don't care about my computer does not mean that I do not care about my blog, because even though I know I don't have many readers, building a community does not happen unless there is a little work put into it. Or something. Is a blog really a community? How about we make it one.

Working at the nursing home, I have learned that I really do enjoy old people. There are times when I really don't want to go into work (for whatever reason: I am tired, I won't be able to see someone, I would rather be not working), but I walk in, fill the pitchers with ice and water and go out into the main dining room, and put a smile on my face. Not because I am happy about being there, but because no elderly person wants to look at an unhappy teenager. (How do I know this? Well, there have been times that I have been told, "Be happy you're cleaning up and not sitting at this table," while there were two people besides her still at the table and "You're so lucky you are still able to work" are both kind of signs that being happy is how they would rather see me. And of course, there's the obvious that no one would prefer an unhappy person.) So eventually, my forced smile becomes a real smile and then I actually become happy. Of course, I am sure not all the nurses or CNAs would be as happy, but still. I work in dietary and it makes me a little happier. Or at least it makes my feelings genuine.