Finally, I'm gotta bring home some bacon.

First of all, a shout out to my youngest sister Megan who, while too young to contribute to this blog personally, nevertheless has inspired everyone around her to use "gotta" instead of "going to" in every possible situation. Yes, Monk, we're gotta have milkshakes.

But anyway, I'm no longer among the ranks of the unemployed. While I try to steer clear of the off-hand, flippant religious assumptions about the world, sometimes crazy things happen. Like how sometimes a mostly broken car magically passes inspection right after you get caught up on your tithing. Or how maybe when the family could really use some good news, a not-yet-licensed social worker somehow gets hired as the Social Services Director of a long-term care facility.

I don't want to hear any guff from all y'all about how there aren't actually any other social workers in the facility for me to be manager over. I'm still MANAGEMENT. Can I get a what-what?

So we're really lucky and I'm really excited and more than just a little bit scared. Had my first day today, and it seems like it'll be great. I passed the drug test and got introduced to most of my coworkers as "Chrissy" (which, as it turns out, is a name I absolutely have no patience for.) I'll finally be helping Husband win our bread. Oh, and after 90 days, the approximately 47 million Americans without health insurance will drop to approximately 46,999,998. (That's especially meaningful since now if Paddy cracks his head open again, we can actually get him some stitches instead of that sweet action butterfly bandage he got last time.)

I'll let you know when I get an ID badge. That's when you know it's official.