THE NATIVES ARE RESTLESS

I’m a little annoyed — at myself. I had my Blog nearly written earlier today, got called away near the end and when I returned, it was gone. Gone I say gone. Being who I am, I walked away to work on the puzzle and when I came back I had no idea what I was writing about. Must have been very important.

The natives are restless. I can hear the drums beginning to beat in the distance. They are soft, but will certainly grow louder. I see fires glowing in the other building and expect chanting and dancing soon, very soon. I saw makeup being gathered in the commons room and know the war paint is coming. I want to see the battle, but think it might be safer if I just hide out in my apartment. I have a good excuse for hiding out. I have work yet to do for my art show.

Under no circumstances do I want to be caught in any kind of stampede. I hate war cries. The shrill screams and cries of anguished old people get on my nerves. Old people in war paint and war attire is a frightening site.

This has been building for quite a while. It is definitely a communication problem. No one is telling us anything. We have a monthly residents meeting and celebrate birthdays for the month at the same time. You would think things would have quieted down since our manager provides a free lunch out of her own pocket (very generous for someone on minimum wage). She also has a drawing for a gift basket she provides. A very cool gife basket that I want to win. Maybe some day — if war doesn’t break out. These should be an appeasement, but tribes gather in clusters at the meal plotting strategies and organizing for an attack. There was a day when resident concerns were brought up and they argued and fought over the issues even taking opposing positions just because they don’t like someone, But since it appears management has shut that down, enemies are joining ranks for a full out assault on a middle woman — our manager.

These days, nothing of significance is ever mentioned. We don’t know why the picnic tables have not been set out. And we are fighting mad over it. We have demanded doors that open easier for our wheelchair bound resident and again, they are silent. All we wanted to do was paint our windows with Christmas decorations and were only told NO – you will make a mess. We felt like kindergartners and we are fed up and won’t take it any more. We want to make a mess.

We would march on headquarters, but no one has the energy. We would sit in the director’s office and lock her out, but cannot climb the stairs. A writing campaign was suggested but most handwriting is not legible. Only a handful can type (I’m really not one of them, as you probably know). A petition was suggested, but there was no agreement on what was to be petitioned. But we are still mad and will not take it anymore.

So, apparently, a few old timers have decided to do what they have done in the past and mount a campaign to get rid of the manager. Mind you no one has given a single consideration to the difference between our last full time manager and the present 7 hours a week manager. They are the same and we expect the same work this one. Why is she so lazy? Why is she never in the office when I want to see her? Why doesn’t she tell us what is going on? Why doesn’t she let us argue and fight with each other in a public arena and hurt others feelings and make them angry? We want a fight and if we can’t get it we are going to get her fired. We don’t care if she is not allowed to make any decisions. We know her and must get rid of someone.

No one seems to remember that we were at each other’s throats with no one here. It was like selfish me oriented kindergarteners. We are unable to care for ourselves. We are unable to settle our own problems. We are helpless little children and we need our mommy to come and take care us. I still think we need a school principle and should reinstate the strap and dunce cap.