I went to pick up the cat today, and somehow I pulled a muscle or pinched a nerve or something of the sort on the right side of my back, right above my butt . . . ouch.

What else . . . I don't plan on working at Foothills. I knew in my gut that residential wasn't for me, so I tried to secure a position in the day program. They called me last week, and told me that they decided to go with another applicant. I think my chances were hurt by the fact that I have my para job in the morning. Everything happens for a reason, no?

I have an interview tomorrow to be a volunteer coordinator for a local non profit, and there's an opening for an ASP para at Rocky on the district website. The latter is what I'm doing now. Something will come through . . .

I love it when you discover something, love it, don't listen to it for a while, then listen to it, and then fall in love with it all over again. So it is for me and Sufjan Stevens.

This past week hasn't been one free of stress. The car, the job, and a gamut of other situations have all come together to form a nice triad, but things work out.

On a better note, I really like the work I'm doing as a para. I'm finding so much satisfaction in the special ed realm, and the part of me that wanted to go to UNC to study it four years ago is coming alive again. For whatever reason, I took a different path, but that's another post for another day.

Brewfest was this weekend, and although I had plans to go with Dre and some other people, I don't feel all that disappointed that I ended up not making it.

Lots of alcohol doesn't do it for me. I can't say that it ever has.

Releasing inner pain is easier (and better) for me without it, and I've found someone who will take my face in his hands and walk me through. The security and comfort that a clear head brings means more to me than anything.

I want to say something else in this post, but I don't have the right words in my head now.

This is my favorite postsecret from this week:

So I've been working to transition my area of focus at Foothills. As opposed to working in residential, I think I would be more effective in the day program. It looks like I'll be able to make the switch, so that takes a load off my brain.

Andres went to Taos for a company "round up" this past week, and he just came back yesterday. 'Tis fabulous to have him back :)

Hmm, life just keeps rolling along. I start my para job in a week, which will hopefully be coupled by a start in the day program. Andres' mom bought me a coffee/espresso maker for graduation, and I'm going to figure it out tonight . . . yesssss.

True enough.

Dre and I went and adopted a black female one year old short hair kitty from the pound last week, with the help of one of our friends. We decided on the name "Miha," derived from the Spanish "Mijita," which means little daughter. Having a "daughter" will undoubtedly entitle us to getting a lot of crap, but the kitty's small and cute and precious and unconditionally loving, so I guess the name fits.

She was the one in the room of adoptable kitties who didn't meow non stop at us. She would put her paw out of her cage, as if to shake our hands; juxtapose that with the cat above her that scratched me in one quick swoop with what I perceived to be malicious intent. We took her into the play area, and she would come to us when we called her. It's fair to say that she will be spoiled into oblivion.


I fell asleep in the chair, and she came and jumped on my chest and also went to sleep on the first night we had her.

We're treating her for an eye infection right now, which she picked up somewhere along the way in the pound.

Andres bonding with the kitty.