Sitting in lecture learning about retinopathy. Grams and I have a very similar conversation every week that goes something along the lines of... "Grams!!" "Well hello, my girl! I haven't heard from you all week. What have you been up to?" {Deep breath} "Well, Monday I worked 12 hours. Tuesday I had clinicals in the morning + then presented my research project at night. Wednesday I had lectures + a lab from 8:30a-8:00p, Thursday and Friday I went to class from 8:30-5:00 and then went for dinner with my adorable classmate from Texas before she flew home to celebrate being done with the quarter. {Speaking of Texas, GCB just might be my new favourite show... and don't be surprised if I move there next spring for rodeos + cowboys clinicals + travel jobs.}
Whhhy are you so grainy, photograph? Saturday I worked day shift and then celebrated my roommate's birthday with friends til midnight which was really one in the morning because of daylight savings time, fml. Sunday, after 3 painful hours of sleep, I had the worst day, to round out the worst month, of work in my short history of nursing... and, well, now I'm at grocery store picking up a pack of beer on my way home and I might just drink them all in a bubble bath tonight."
Aprihops, an IPA I can tolerate. "You, my dear, are going to get sick...." but I never do. Ever. She says this to me every week... no matter how crazy my schedule is... and I am never sick. I like to credit all my mum's weird garlic poultices and golden seal nastiness and echinacea concoctions she gave me growing up for my immune system of steel...
Lovely building on Capitol Hill lit up in the rain...but come Monday, I woke up feeling awful. I honestly thought I had {worried myself sick} hardly sleeping the night before {sick + tired, perhaps?} so I chalked up my achiness to exhaustion, put on a thick skin, a fake smile and barely muttered through the long day at work... I had many tearful moments throughout the day and by 8:30 Monday night, I fell asleep and didn't wake up again until 11:30 on Tuesday...
Hello, flaming vodka salmon. Only to write two finals... with a fever, no less. Perhaps, the fiery in my heart is what was causing my hyperthermia... {Am I love sick}? The problem with being a sick, nicu nurse is they don't want you anywhere near tiny, little babies who have not had their fair share of ginger root and ear candles and therefore have no form of defense against your germs... so I took the day off today... and I will take tomorrow off, too... to protect the babies! ;)
Don't think with my sudden free time, I will be cleaning this mess. To be honest, this little ailment could not have come at a better time... a time where work + I are not dancing to the same tune. He's more of a jig. I'm more of the square dance variety, apparently. We really need a do-over :: a fresh start :: a clean slate. Perhaps, next week? We can start off on the right foot... save lives in cadence... no more snark + certainly no more misfortunes... or else I will be forced to cross back over to the dark side.
Go on + kiss the moon. I thought we were working things out, 2012. You were giving a little more; I was expecting a little less. But you are obviously not speaking my love language. I'm hoping a little yahtzee with Kara, a little gym date with Reese, sweet, southern comfort + sweet tea by the gallon in Tennessee this weekend, along with the forecasted seventy degree weather + college basketball, will allow me to don my rose-coloured glasses and actually spring forward... for that is my love language: the elements of home.
Leaving on a jet plane... I'll be back on Monday.
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