Battle of the Hopeless Romantic

Once upon a time there was a little girl who didn't feel like doing schoolwork and wanted to write a blog post instead. So she sat down to try to write something that would be funny, but all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and take a very, very long nap. So she settled for something in between, because anything is better than doing classwork, right?

(Just a disclaimer, in case my teacher ever reads this, I am sooo caught up in my work right now that it doesn't even matter.)

I called this post Battle of the Hopeless Romantic because I thought today I could talk about what it means to be a hopeless romantic. Sometimes I think it is a disease that I am inflicted with, and I just need the magic antidote and I'll be fine. I know a boy who expresses zero emotion and makes fun of me when I talk about my feelings too much. I don't really understand him for this. All I want is a romantic gesture every now and again. Granted, he does give them to me - he does/says the sweetest things. But. All said and done, I will always be expecting something bigger or better or more fantastic.

And now there's some kid sitting at the computer next to me so I feel awkward writing about being a romantic. Damn. I'm going to hit return a lot and then write again so if he's a nosy jerk who's going to try to read this he won't get to see anything.


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There. Sorry for the multitude of space up there. If you'd like, you can imagine that it's a picture of a polar bear in a snowstorm. I will even go back up and put a little dot you can imagine is his nose. There. Imagine that's the polar bear's nose.

Well. My plans for talking about being a romantic have been shattered. I am going to have to think of something else to talk about. Which might be better anyway becuase I mean really, no one actually wants to read about my life. They'd rather listen to me complain about things. So today I will turn my attention to something that has alays bothered me and probably always will bother me. Celebrity marriages. To quote Donkey from the movie Shrek (which I don't like and will never like), "They never last."

Some of them DO LAST. Okay? It's the ones with problems that get splashed all over the tabloids. Because those sell. Because there's this silly condition in our world where we simply want to hear about other peoples' problems. And it bothers me. I sometimes wish I could just erase tabloids, but then I'd have nothing to amuse me at the doctor's office.

Just kidding. I'm going to talk about Josh. He's telling me about his experiences at the hospital. He was watching a beligerent old man last night. He (Josh) works there. And he was watching this guy, who they all said was "pleasantly confused" but he was apparently not pleasant at all, in fact he was mean. And he (the old guy) wanted to get up. And Josh had to make sure he didn't get up because he'd hurt his foot. But he was being really dumb about it and kept trying to get up. He said he wanted cigarettes, just had to have "smokes". And actually asked Josh for a ride up town to get cigarettes, and asked if Josh smoked. He's in a HOSPITAL. You don't smoke in a hospital.

So that went on for eight hours. It was terrible, Josh said. At 7:30 one of the nurses went in and said he could go home, and then he was a mile away and got called back to watch the same patient. Who didn't remember who Josh was. He thought he was at church where he worked but he was at the hospital and tomorrow he's going to "fire" Josh. Same encounter again, cigarettes and everything.

And then towards 11:00, there's this thing called sundowners where when the sun starts to set elderly people get less all-there and mentally healthy. So he forgot who Josh was again, and was confused and thought he was someone he already knew and that he was home, so he was really nice all of a sudden! Yay! And then yeah.

And then someone came in to watch him for nightshift and Josh said, "Have fun." And he was gone. These are the reasons why I could never, ever work at a hospital. I think I'd have yelled at the man and stormed out. I have zero patience.

That is my story. Actually Josh's story. I hope it entertained you. I basically typed it exactly as he said it out loud but changed the pronouns and I ignord this awkward part about how the guy kept having to go to the bathroom, but wasn't supposed to b/c of some medical term I don't remember but made sense at the time. (Josh left to go back to class. I'm now alone again. And bored.)

This post had nothing to do with romantics. I'm sorry if you were looking forward to that. But you did get to hear a story about a "pleasantly confused" man. And about how much tabloids lie. Because they only talk about what people want to hear...Actually I should expand on that in a later post. I could do it now but I don't really feel like it, because I've probably made you read enough by now.

Toodles!