I thought to myself what kind of woman would come to work on a Monday morning with glitter all over her face and chest and does not work at a strip bar, teaches kindergarten, or is in some sort of theatrical performance. Well it’s the kind of 44 year old woman who had three small white dogs and puts glitter on them as well as dyes them with food coloring, “cuz it’s safe, and if I can do it to my body, I can do it to them, and they like it!” I’m like okay, I guess, but not really. In the blue room, which is not even blue there is a cat that we need to pull blood on, and get some urine. I pull the blood while Glitter Girl is holding the cat. In the Green Room, which is not green, there is a dog that needs a bandage change. Little Miss Glitter Girl holds the dog while I remove the old bandage and get the material ready for the new bandage. I walk away and look for the bandage material, which took longer than necessary due to the fact shit is all over the hospital in Tupperware containers stacked all over the place, and moved every 30 minutes because the glitter has gone to this girls head! I look down and see something shiny on my shirt. It’s fucking glitter! I have glitter all over my ass! I look like I have just come back from Angles Disco and the year is 1989. I’m pissed off! I will have this damn glitter all over me for the rest of my life! It will get in my hair, my eyes, my ears, my nose, and then it will appear in my apartment in the carpet, and on my cat, and the neighbors cat, and in my car, and I will leave traces of where I have been for the rest of the week because this 47 year old woman wears glitter to work all over her fucking body like she is going to the disco, or the fucking roller rink! Twice a week she would do this. On those days I would say to her, “Look, you can either hold all the animals and I will pull blood, or I will hold and you pull, but I aint going to be mixing it up because I am not going to walk around with glitter all over me today, and the rest of the week!” She would at that point say, “Uh-huh” and walk away. From the first “uh-huh” you knew your ass was in trouble. This meant one thing and one thing only. Complete and total shut down. When ever I would ask as question to Glitter Girl and the response I got back was “uh-huh” I knew that myself  nor anyone else in the hospital could talk to her. I mean you could talk, but the only thing she was going to say was “uh-huh.” She was in shut down mode. This would last for two to three hours, sometimes the rest of the d ay. At first I was bothered by all of this silence business, but after a couple of weeks, I was glad! I did not have to hear her talk about crap she did over the weekend which usually consists of going to some Jamaican club and spreading glitter all over the place! I bet they put down plastic whenever she walked in the door. All the Rasta’s with glitter in their dreads.  Or the weekend she put food coloring all in her Maltese hair and glitter on his chest. I wonder if she had all her pets colored different colors, and dipped in glitter and had reggae dance hall parties on the weekends, and never went to the club at all because they banned her from the club because of the over use of glitter? She was also on some special diet. She would go to the Texaco station and get a big as bag of nuts of trail mix. She would sit in an exam room with the lights out and eat one nut at a time. No shit, it would take her a minute to eat 5 nuts! And speaking of shitting she would bring her own pine sol cleaner diluted down so she could take a big stinking nutty crap and clean up with her own cleaning product. Glitter Girl would not share anything. She used to put her keys in a drawer in the cabinet every morning. I came along and put my keys, phone, and wallet in the same drawer. At first she would divide the drawer so my Hello Kitty keys would not touch her raggedy ass keys. I would watch this go down go over and mix the shit right up again. This went on for a week, and then she moved her shit over to another closet. Yes, you know damn well I would still go over and move her stuff around. Glitter Girl was the Queen of organization! She would have the IV catheters with the bandage scissors, and the tape on the other side of the room and the cap for the catheters somewhere in an exam room. Then in the next 30 minutes she would have all the shit moved to different locations then where they were in the first place! One day we had 2 hit by cars and a kidney failure walk in all within 30 minutes of each other. I just sat there holding the poodle because I knew if I had to go looking for shit to get the dogs stable I would have killed her, and there would have been two hit by cars, a kidney failure, and a murder!