I'm obsessed by mountains, particularly the ones I'm staring at right now in Wyoming's Grand Teton National Park. Marvelous, epic monoliths of rock and ice, they dominate and intimidate. "Look up here, you tiny, transient human writing your little long-term care articles," they're taunting. "We've been here forever. You want a piece of us?"
Research shows cynical people die younger and are three times more likely to get dementia? Yeah, right. I'd like to see who paid for that study. And I just read on the Internet that evil corporations representing big-cynicism interests are conspiring to kill innovations in positive attitude in order to keep distrust and pessimism thriving. So change is hopeless. Why bother trying?
That new CNA ran over your foot with the med cart. Someone else is getting the promotion you expected. A resident's family member said horrible things about you. A coworker stole your shift — and your husband.
Just so you know, I've been pulling two, 12-hour shifts of living per day for the past 53 years, and I'm exhausted. I work when I sleep and I sleep when I work, which means I don't do either one very well. I've even talked to my supervisor about this, to no avail. He's an unreasonable ogre named Gary Tetz, and all he cares about is himself.
Sometimes in business — and particularly in the long-term care business — it can be useful to see things from a fresh, unexpected perspective.