The Plan

I am a little scared of all the uncertainty life will hold after December of this year. Liz says if I ask for what I want/need and keep it in mind as I go, I'll be more likely to get it. So I'm going to draw a mental image of my life:

Same apartment, less mess.
LPN license.
LPN job with stable schedule.
Pay equal to at least twice my rent.
Benefits: health, dental, and preferably education (for my RN).
PTO.
Healthy body.
Sane mind.
No negative drama.

So there you go, universe... is that a tall order? Or can you handle it?

On the right path, going uphill

Nobody said it would be easy. I never thought it would be. I guess now is the moment. Where rubber meets road. Starting Monday I will have to be at work, clinicals, or both for 12 days in a row. Five of those days will be doubles. My "light at the end of the tunnel" is the weekend following those 12 days. It will be a 4 day weekend, during which I will do NOTHING.

Thanks for pointing that out.

An old friend just called. She was at a Twins game and bored. She wanted me to entertain her. I explained that I was studying for a Microbiology test and doing Statistics homework, so I am not the right person for the job. She then went on AT LENGTH about how I'm always busy these days and how she wishes I would come out with her more.

You know, maybe she meant to be helpful. Maybe she meant to make me feel loved. It did not work. Instead, she made me cry. Do you think I don't realize I'm busy? WTF?! I am so tired of school and work, school and work, school and work I could just SCREAM! Every time someone asks me to do something all I can think is, "Shit, when will I get my homework done?"

I know I need a break, but there isn't one in sight. I look at my calendar and cry more.

Simple Advice

Love life advice so simple and perfect, it was worth repeating:

When it comes to men, ignore EVERYTHING they say; only pay attention to what they do.

When I evaluate my own love life (past and present) through that lens, I am made to say, "Hmmmm...."

Etiquette

I hereby swear to become a more strict adherent to the rules of proper etiquette. As a rule, I am not so good with social graces, but now I have motivation. After a week of living in my house while hers was remodeled, a close friend failed to say thank you. Another friend stayed for a similar amount of time last fall. She left me a nice candle and a beautiful note. When I got home from work last night and found that this friend had failed to make any gesture, I was hurt. Not mortally wounded, but it isn't nice to feel taken for granted. What I really want to do is send a passive-aggressive email or make a comment...but no. I am not perfect about such things myself, so I cannot throw stones. I will swallow my pride on this one. This time.

Special moments

I never imagined, when I took my job, that there would be so many touching moments. I figured I would get attached to my residents, but who knew how special they would be? Who knew how much they would care for me?

Francis never treats me the way she treats other residents and staff. For me, it is always smiles, hugs, and kisses. She is a very funny person, if only you take the time to get past her forgetfulness. To others she is difficult, pushy, bossy, and easily angered. For me, she is sweet and helpful. She just wants to do things her own way and in her own time, too often others try to hurry her or do things for her to save time. That's when she gets upset.

Marie is always in a hurry. She tells me about working in a pharmacy where it was always rush, rush, rush. She enjoyed that job. Now it can be frustrating to always be saying, "Marie! Wait!" She is always jumping out of her chair to get into her wheelchair without assistance. One evening (inspired by the Christian music on her radio and her rosary) I asked if she'd like to say a prayer before bed. We have said an Our Father together every night since. The last time I put her to bed she said this prayer for me:

I said a prayer for you today

and know God must have heard.

I felt the answer in my heart

although He spoke not a word.

I didn't ask for wealth or fame

I knew you wouldn't mind.

I asked for priceless treasure rare

of a more lasting kind.

I prayed that He'd be near you

at the start of each new day

to grant you health and blessings fair

and friends to share your way.

I asked for happiness for you,

in all things great and small

but that you'd know His loving care

I prayed for most of all.

My eyes were a little damp by the time she was done. She told me she says that prayer for me everyday. She and Francis both tell me they wish I were their (grand)daughter. Kathleen is trying to convince me to marry her son so she can claim me as her daughter-in-law.

It is amazing how much these little old ladies have taught me in such a short amount of time! I have grown by leaps and bounds in patience, love, respect, and tolerance. I don't know how all of these changes are going to affect other parts of my live, but I look forward to finding out. I feel like I'm becoming a better person for my experiences.

The relationship between sleep, stress, God, and me.

When I worked at MPHA I was averaging 6-8 hours of sleep. My mental stress level was through the roof, but physically I was fairly unstressed. I was yawning ALL the time. There was no such thing as getting "caught up".

Now I average 9-11 hours of sleep. My mental stress level is of a different nature, but definitely had some emotional moments recently, also my body is feeling the effects of my new job.

I think if it were not for my sleep, I'd be off the deep end right now. I wouldn't be able to keep juggling.... the last straw would have been today...

At 7:15 am (not a time I'm usually awake for anymore) my phone rang. Twice. After deciding it must be important if they tried twice, I got up and called back. It was Julie and Jessica. Crying. Jessica's eyesight is fluctuating due to all the changes and she's retaining water to the point of having a visibly poofy face. This morning she couldn't see her mother standing in front of her, let alone herself in the mirror, but could feel the tightness in her skin indicating the poofy-ness had not gone down. She didn't want to go to school. Julie couldn't stay home from work. Neither felt terribly great about Jess staying home alone. They needed someone else to tell them what to do. I told Julie I thought Jess should go to school. Jess refused to talk to me. Not the best way to start the day.

At 12:35 pm my phone rang again. I was in my car with Leah (former coworker at MPHA) going out for lunch. This time it was Mom calling. She wanted to let me know that Tootie would be doing radiation again. Why? My guess was that her second round aimed at her lungs and liver hadn't done the trick. I was wrong. This time the radiation will be aimed at her brain. She's developed tumors there too. Oh, and the last round aimed at her lungs and liver? Well, that didn't do as well as hoped either.

Oddly enough, when I think about Tootie, it's Kanye West that comes to mind. To quote his song Jesus Walks, "I wanna talk to God, but I'm afraid 'cause we ain't spoke in so long..." Frankly, my belief in the existence of a God has been at question lately. Maybe it's all a big coincidence? Big Bang, nothing more?

Honestly, I believe it was a Big Bang, but I want more too. I want love to exist outside of my brain, outside of such a fallible being. I want love so big it can hold the Big Bang, lung cancer in a smoker, and a broken hearted little girl searching for meaning.

What does "my type" mean, anyway?

So my last post was about Alex. That didn't go so well. I ended it after the first date. He was not my type. So, what is my type?

Not Alex.
Not Wade.
Not Cameron.
Not Andrew.
Not Erik.
Not Eric.
Not Neal.
Not Chris.
Not Scott.
Not Josh.

You'd think I'd have it narrowed down by process of elimination. You'd be wrong. I think I am destined to kiss every frog that hops into my pond. Who knows if any of them will ever be a prince.

My experience with Dave is intriguing to me. Mostly because the date with him is making me ask questions of myself. Honestly, I don't know if I'd even "see" him if he were walking down the street (if I hadn't already met him). I know what I was thinking when I did meet him, and I am ashamed of myself for it. I judged him as too dorky, too introverted, and too not-cool. What am I? Captain of the cheerleading squad? Is that part of the high school experience something I want to repeat? Who am I to judge? Apparently I'm a judgmental bitch on occasion.

I like to think of myself as an open-minded, free of prejudice, lover of people. I think I like to put myself on a pedestal. It's time to step down. I have faults. It's not always about the other person. Sometimes, it's about me too. Rather than looking for what is wrong with the other person all the time, I need to start putting some of that effort into seeing my own contribution to the problem.

To my own credit, I have overcome a lot to get where I am. Sometimes it feels like I've come so far that there can't be any further to go, but that is wrong. You are far from perfect, honey.

Love is a simple thing?