A Few Observations

Almost done work. One more shift left. I think I'm going to take Thursday easy, sit back, relax, empty my box, and write a good-bye note to the therapists.
That's it. Dolt gets the rest.
She's not really better than she was. I've taught her everything she needs to know, now, but as to how much of it has sunk in... It's quite questionable. The therapists are dreading her being on her own with them. Marla's dreading the messes she'll have to clean up. I'm...
I'm feeling the stress go away as we speak.
I've talked with both Shaveen and Kabir (two of the therapists) about my reasons for leaving, now, and they both agree that things are just going down the shitter. Joy just... doesn't know how to manage things. She treats her staff like shit. Apparently the patients who she'd been looking after last week commented on it in the morning today, when they were with Trevor - she'd been berating me over skid marks that the chairs were leaving. I, as usual, had cleaned up after them and shrugged it off. You just placate her and forget about her, unless it's something that makes sense. Like I told Kabir, you can't tell her what she's doing wrong. You can make suggestions about anything else, what might be fixed... But to tell her that she's the problem would just be suicide.
Anyways. The patients had said that it had been really crappy, the way she'd been treating me. They noticed. They said something.
It's kinda awesome.
Marla and I chatted for a few minutes - caught her just as she was leaving (Dolt was already in), and she mentioned that Trevor had said that yesterday afternoon that I was looking more carefree than I'd ever been, had dressed up prettily (actually, I just wore the brown-and-black lace shirt with the giant cleavage; I guess gay guys really do pick up on things like fashion XD), and was being super patient with Dolt.
Patient. Me. PFFFFFFT.
So I guess everyone is picking up on the fact that it's a huge relief to me that I'll be gone. I hate to leave the other therapists and Marla in the lurch - they're all great people, aside from Joy - but I just had to do it. I'm going to be left on the payroll for a month or two, though - I gladly told Marla that if she had any problems, to give me a call and I could walk her through it. I don't mind doing that. She's bright.
Just as long as I don't have to be there.

Also, I was told today at work - actually, it was a message relayed to me by someone's relative I had spoken to - that I have the most beautiful phonevoice. So much for sounding like a valley girl?

And I forgot to write it in my last entry, but I just remembered tonight.
Do guys ever really think about what they're doing when they whistle or make catcalls at random girls on the street?
I say this just because I was whistled at last week when I was returning to the clinic after my lunch break. There was nobody else on the street, so it couldn't have been directed at anyone other than me. The week before that, a group that I passed by in their car had asked me something along the lines of 'hey babe, whatcha up to?'. I ignored both, but...
I... don't get it. It makes me feel horribly uncomfortable when they do that. I imagine it does for other women, too. And even if I was single, I'd still feel uncomfortable about it. I can't tell whether or not they're being serious, or just being assholes. Never.
Perhaps a more confident girl than me would, y'know, think it a compliment and take it or whatever, and not think any more of it, but... I've always had a problem with my self-image. I'm not beautiful; passably pretty on a good day, yes, but I've never been half as good-looking as most of the girls I've been around. And this fact was always pointed out to me when I was a kid by the other girls, and I was made fun of, and even the boys would do so via the same whistles and what-not - noticeably more sarcastic, of course, with the inexperience of youth, so it was almost impossible to ignore.
I remember one incident, back in six or seventh grade, where a couple of the girls had told me that the cutest guy in the grade (whom everyone, including myself, had a crush on) was totally interested in me. Part of me knew they were just being cruel, but the other part hoped that it might be true. Of course, that part was killed off soon enough, when I overheard them snickering to him about it, and him laughing back. They didn't know I was listening.
So now, even though I know I look better than I used to, I still have problems with my confidence... And I still feel like they're making fun of me when they whistle, or make remarks, or...

So, guys, next time you see a girl walking by on the street, don't call out to her. If you think she's pretty, but she doesn't, you could just shatter her self-esteem without meaning to.
And if you're being sarcastic, I hope someone peels your skin off with a dull knife, you fucker.