I have a really hard time getting up in the mornings. Saturday morning, I pulled myself out of bed (slow motion) and forced myself as always to rush to my running group for a long run.  I'm not a morning person, but I am a runner, which is why waking up around 6am on Saturday mornings to go running can present quite a conflict for me.  I never know which one to choose, which is why I always show up to run, and why I always arrive late.

Saturday was a 12 miler and let me tell you, it rained on us for the whole two hours! Can you imagine? It was honestly, horrible, yet wonderful at the same time.  The wonderful part was that although the humidity was pretty heavy, the rain was my saviour.  To add to that, I got to crash many puddles on my run and got soaked from head to toe. The bad part? I felt horrible and wanted to walk often. In some ways, I think I am quite a wimpy runner.    

Recently started a new job working for a hospice.  The orientation today was really long, but very interesting at the same time.  I've already had a number of people comment about how working in hospice is so hard and I'm sure at times it is, but from my little experience in the working world, it seems that the jobs that are hard work and seem less appealing to others can oftentimes be the best jobs to have.  Some people have asked me whether it is depressing to work in a field where people are literally dying daily. I had an inkling that the opposite was true and I have barely worked at this place for a month, but honestly I'm convinced it is quite the contrary.   

Granted my job does not work directly with patients, this opportunity, I have a feeling, is going to be quite worthwhile.  Today in orientation, I learned from one of the counselors, the art of being present.  I think one of the joys of working with old people is that you don't often have to pretend or impress them.  Just being with them is good enough.  I think this is especially the case when you work with people who are frail. When I used to volunteer at the nursing home in Houghton, I used to visit this one resident who I could barely understand. He was bed bound and literally half the time I just stood there or sat with him.  Mostly because I was young and didn't know what to do. But after four years of doing that, I became pretty comfortable just sitting and making some conversation when he wanted to.  And that was good enough!  Okay well dinner time is calling me.  More to come...