Feel the hands of fate/They're suffocating

I think I'm expected to make dinner tonight, yippee skippy. Not my idea of a fun time, but whatever. It could be a lot worse. I suppose my recent bout of proving just how domesticated I've become recently has come back to bite me in the butt. Oh, well, I'll live.
The one thing I don't like about overnights is that I can't put things off indefinitely: you know, "maybe if I wait long enough, someone else will do it." There's only two of us at night, and the work is pretty evenly divided. If I need help with something I can ask for it (like changing Steven), but that's about as far as it goes, since M.B. has her own work to do. It's even more important than mine, because she has to set up and administer everyone's medications. All I do is clean and make sure nobody hurts themselves while they sleep. It's kind of boring, but like I've said about eight million times, I don't mind it.
My library sucks. The interlibrary loan has very little to recommend it, even though it's statewide. More than half of the books on my reading list aren't available ANYwhere, and I'm talking about the critically-acclaimed international-bestseller ones. Which bites a LOT, let me tell you. Grar. (that's my "I'm not happy" noise.)

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