tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-120320012009-10-16T09:17:57.747-05:00Caramel Should be a Food GroupAKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.comBlogger335125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-74595766907541792982009-09-05T16:21:00.000-05:002009-09-15T00:43:46.190-05:00At Home-ishAt Aunt Margo's.<br />Every time I come here<br />(and this is only the 2nd<br />at this location)<br />my heart feels at home.<br />Welcome isn't the word...<br />more like a sense of<br />peace, completeness, belonging.<br /><br />I found myself stopping.<br />Catching myself -<br />Am I in Vacaville?<br />No- I went there,<br />with strange detachment.<br />I must be in Rock Hill,<br />after all, that's where<br />my home is -<br />No 0 I'm thousands of<br />miles form my house.<br />Plumas Lake?!<br />This town is foreign<br />to me, and yet, home.<br />Home is where the Aunt is.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-7459576690754179298?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-59437987944780107882009-09-02T10:37:00.000-05:002009-09-15T00:40:26.493-05:00EmpleadoHoly... wow.<br />I can NOT believe the job contract<br />that I just got...<br /><br />Giving a whole lot of thanks<br />(more than a lot)<br /><br />I knew something good<br />would come along, but<br />this might just take<br />the cake.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-5943798794478010788?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-12336549867270539452009-09-02T08:29:00.000-05:002009-09-15T00:37:31.950-05:00Elephant Poo, and a Great Cheeseburger!Went to the SF MOMA yesterday with an awesome girl I met at my hostel.  We had fun, but were mostly unimpressed with what passes for "art" these days.  And the museum staff wanted to make sure we stayed back from all displays &amp; no flash photography.  It's like this - clearly the artists didn't take themselves seriously  (A trailer? That's art?)  And yet the staff treats it like a precious artifact?  Loved LOVED the painting made with elephant dung. (*despite the dung, not because of it!)<br /><br />The day was absolutely beautiful!  After the museum, we hung in the park &amp; realized we were hungry.  I had a hankering for a Dave's burger (I'd been thinking about them for about a week) &amp; on a whim we walked the mile back to the hostel then drove <strike>nearly 40 miles</strike> 48 miles to get a fabulous cheeseburger!  (The poor girl got a taste of a local chola old-lady talk, yammering about her once-revered switchblade) but loved the cheeseburger all the same.  Had a lot of fun, &amp; it was nice to be able to let a foreigner tourist see a little bit of the non-tourist areas.<br /><br />Did my ACLS prep class last night.  I felt retard-iculous.  Glad I rescheduled the actual ACLS.. I would've NEVER passed it!  (That's all I'm gonna say about that).. It's time to get ready so I can check out of my hostel.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-1233654986727053945?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-79927514781103324662009-08-27T09:54:00.000-05:002009-08-28T14:35:03.480-05:00Echo & The BunnymenPismo Beach - Highway 1.<br />Water to the left,<br />hills to the right.<br />Flip-flops on my feet,<br />New Wave on the stereo, <br />a latte in my belly,<br />and a smile on my face.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-7992751478110332466?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-78382873644289669662009-08-26T22:25:00.006-05:002009-08-26T23:03:05.685-05:00Beach Weather, Head only, and Monkey Toes.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/0826091716.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 386px; height: 179px;" src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/0826091716.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: left;">I'd seen lots of signs in parking lots that say "Head in Only" and thought it a little strange.  PARKING.  One word added that makes the topic sound 86% less dirty. ;0)  This was taken at the parking garage across the street from my hostel.  (Appears Santa Monica does not take well to backwards parkers? They actually have a law against it?!)</div><br />I forgot how much I love beach weather!  The beach itself is often overrated- crowded, and you find sand in places it was never intended to be.  But driving through Santa Monica, I was right on the coast, and WOW... I'd forgotten how awesome it is... how good the air smells.  How cool it is day and night... I'm in love with the beach right now.  I'd been deciding whether to drive on Hwy 5, or Hwy 1, and thought I'd choose 101 as a nice compromise from the LA area to the Bay Area, but after today, it's soo resolved: Highway 1 for SURE!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.hilosangeles.org/">My hostel</a> is fantastic.. uber-clean.  And though sharing a room with 9 other girls gets warm and a tad musty, I wouldn't change it for the world. Love this place.  Too bad they limit you to 14 days/year max.. I wouldn't mind living here.  There's lots to do, and it's lively here.<br /><br />Got to hang out with an online friend IRL, and it was a blast.. really enjoyed his company, and am glad to solidify a friendship!  We went to the <a href="http://www.getty.edu/">Getty museum</a> in LA.  We really didn't have enough time to do the whole thing, but what we did see was awesome. (There was so much damned marble there!  The whole thing was friggin' rich.)  If I had time, I'd really do a whole day there... Would love to have toured the gardens, but even checking them out from the overlook was fantastic!<br /><br />I'd heard somewhere that there's this theory that as a species, our toes are shrinking.  I'd always thought that was a little strange, but didn't dismiss it.  Today, I've officially decided there's merit to the theory.  Every statue and painting from the 1600's-1700's seemed to have monkey-toes.  Yes monkey freaking toes.  Wish I could rattle off examples, but I was not really a good museum-goer.. I don't remember.. I just remember seeing an awful lot of Monkey TOES!!!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-7838287364428966966?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-76119397417733989002009-08-24T23:49:00.005-05:002009-08-26T23:07:14.761-05:00Interim Update<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/0824091737.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/0824091737.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I know I've written a few things down on paper that I need to transfer here to my blog, but I haven't because it's been a strange wild ride, what with the no internet, no computer situation.<br /><br />I'm writing this while sitting in the common room of a hostel in Flagstaff, AZ.  I drove from Amarillo here today, and the ride was gorgeous.  As I hit AZ, I could see light filtering down amidst a faraway rainshower, and I felt like I was in God's country.  I'm always in awe of the land when I drive through the southwest.  I remember studying geology, and really not enjoying the subject (too much bleh, not enough action) but whenever I find myself looking at the big red srata in the land, I ponder how it got that way, and find myself interested all over again.<br /><br />I also decided that practical people in Arizona must say, "Screw it; let's just get orange carpet."  (Maybe thus the inspiration for the popularity of terra cotta tile?)<br /><br />I spent time in OKC visiting with family, and had a blast.  I really got to bond with my aunt while staying with her and truly enjoyed her company.  Visits with family are food to my soul.  (As are road trips, so I'm feeling downright gluttonous right now!)<br /><br />My brain is weary, and I'm ready for bed... I gained 2 hours today, so I'm all messed up.  It feels early, but I've been up for a while.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-7611939741773398900?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-46266514715427530662009-07-21T01:43:00.000-05:002009-09-05T12:08:55.093-05:00It Was a Dark & Stormy NightMaybe I set myself up for a fright. <br />Driving home, I told myself,<br />"this is like horror-movie weather."<br />  -  Super heavy rains.<br />      Abundant lightning that<br />      made it look like daylight.<br /><br />Maybe it was nerves when I<br />hydroplaned in the flooded roads.<br /><br />Or maybe it was the ginormous bugs<br />nose-diving at full speed into my<br />flimsy glass window.<br /><br />I don't know what set it off, but<br />by the time the power started flickering,<br />I was pretty freaking creeped out.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-4626651471542753066?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-79133294549973533482009-07-19T14:02:00.000-05:002009-09-05T12:05:40.155-05:00ApologiesIt was big of her to call and apologize.<br />I know that wasn't easy.  I accepted, &amp; did not even rehash - because I'm honestly not even angry.  Last night was a total moment of clarity: the realization that this cycle will never end ... so it was easy to accept.<br /><br />I had about a 10-second breakdown of crying when I hung up.  That's all I allowed myself, but that's enough.  I'm thankful for the apology, and very aware of how difficult that call must have been for her to make.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">Today I am also thankful for: </span><br />1. The Smiths .. Best of 1 album<br />2.  Iced pumpkin coffee<br />3.  The blood (from my bloody nose last week) came out in the wash<br />4.  Light blue bedroom &amp; bathroom<br />5.  My faith in myself.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-7913329454997353348?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-42002846220709923292009-07-18T23:30:00.002-05:002009-09-05T12:00:56.630-05:00180 Degrees (a Neverending Cycle)It was like experiencing my teenage years all over again.  And let me say, sometimes reliving your youth doesn't carry good connotations.  This was one of those times.<br /><br />She flipped out on me completely.  A total 180 degrees in a matter of minutes, &amp; I'm still blindsided.  I have no idea how or why it happened.  One minute she gets the idea to pop popcorn.  Dad &amp; I were sititing in the living room, usual places - in front of the TV waiting for her to come back.  She shouts to us something about needing to clean up.  I shout back that I already did.  She tells me I've eaten 2 meals at her house since I last cleaned.  I tell her, no, that I picked up after dinner tonight.<br /><br />"Picked up?!  Now you're changing your words," she says.  Dad gets up &amp; heads to the kitchen, so I follow obediently, and start opening the dishwasher so I can put clean dishes away, so that all the dishes I'd rinsed &amp; piled in the sink earlier can be put in there.  I don't know what changes at this point, but she's mad at me &amp; tells me to stop - she shoves the rack back in the washer &amp; closes it.<br /><br />I'm dumbfounded &amp; upset all at once.  I ask her why she's upset, &amp; I hear something about, "you ackt like this is your house.  You don't live here." This hurts.  The "It's my house, &amp; what I say goes; when you have your own house you can call the shots" of my teen years echo all around me, stinging.<br /><br />I'm still shocked, because I was told to clean up, and I was doing as I was told.  I open the dishwasher &amp; try to continue putting the dishes away.  She tries to close it again, yelling, "I'm not going to have you do anything so you can use it against me later!"  Yelling from her is upsetting me.  I notice my dad has left.  "Dad!" I shout, but no response.  She changes her voice and calls me something stupid, giggling.  I believe the word was "boognugget" or something like it.  I tell her its's not funny, and trying to be cute isn't working.  I shout for dad again, no response.<br /><br />She's yelling, slamming the dishwasher.  I tell her she's being an asshole.  "How dare you!" she says.  Tries to fight.  I keep telling her I'm not engaging.  She slams her bowl down, trying to continue.  I tell her, "you're not going to be happy until you've had your fight, are you?"  She continues yelling.<br /><br />I have no idea what she said, because at this point I'm honestly not listening.  I grab purse &amp; keys.  I tell her, "You aren't going to be happy until I get pissed off and leave, are you?"  She's yelling.  I think she's trying to get me back - but I see no happy end.  There's no way this can end peacefully, so I leave.<br /><br />So I left.  With her yelling behind me.  I didn't look back.  Drove around, the long way.  Kept driving until I wasn't angry anymore.  Then I sat parked in my driveway listening to the cicadas &amp; looking at stars until I wasn't frustrated anymore.  Now I sit here, simply disheartened.  I realize that it will never change.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-4200284622070992329?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-6591072319533716872009-07-18T01:16:00.003-05:002009-07-18T01:30:17.464-05:00Home again, home againLordy, lordy! It's been a wild ride.  First I did all the work on the truck (that absolutely *needed* to be done).  Then, I come home to find my water heater was dead.  And no sooner did I replace the water heater, then my laptop crapped out on me.  Took it to a local shop;  the repair guy said it's looking like a bad motherboard... Thank GOD it's still under warranty for about 6 more weeks!  I dropped it off today, and expect to have my beloved "Coppertop" back in about 3 weeks.  (yeah, it takes forever!!)<br /><br />So, it's been a series of job rejections after I refused the job in Fort Worth.  (I think I'm the unloved child at that agency right now!)  And between the job rejections, &amp; all my shit breaking, I'm still smiling.<br /><br />I'm keeping my head above water, and for that I'm thankful.<br /><br /><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">Here's more things I'm thankful for:</span></b><br /><br />1.  Being around my family &amp; friends.. feeling loved &amp; missed.<br />2.  Coffee for "after dinner relaxation"<br />3.  My washing machine can wash an entire comforter<br />4.  Discovering I had some after-tax money in my 401k that I can withdraw without penalty.<br />5.  My Birks are 1,000 years old, and perfectly broken-in.<br />6.  OrthoMax bug spray.  (Judging by all the dead bugs in my house, it really works!)<br />7.  Watching birds eat at my feeder.<br />8.  Warranties! (&amp; being organized enough to find the receipts.)<br />9.  A better margarita in SC than in Dallas. (Ha!)<br />10. The feeling that, despite everything, I still believe in myself, &amp;  am confident I will land on my feet.<br /><br />Things have  been pretty shitty, but I've got a shit-eating grin.  I'm standing tall, knowing it'll get better.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-659107231953371687?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-11039298174406913932009-06-29T06:45:00.003-05:002009-06-29T07:05:42.027-05:00With Absolute CertaintyI took some time out for "me time" this weekend. Didn't acknowledge the phone at all Friday or Saturday, and most of Sunday.  It was solitude that I found so peaceful and comforting.  Watched some TV on DVD. Read a little.  Did a couple crossword puzzles.  Found myself listening to opera and piano music.  Really felt old beyond my years, and yet so comfortable with that.  I've been told many times in my life how I'm an "old soul," and for some reason I wholly felt it this weekend.<br /><br />So with that time, I tried to sort things out.  This gypsy lifestyle has me questioning so much.  Way more than I ever thought I would.  I'm not sure what's what anymore.  I asked myself this morning what I am absolutely certain of... and I had trouble coming up with answers...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-1103929817440691393?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-45238554233530138792009-06-19T16:25:00.003-05:002009-06-19T16:55:09.067-05:00Smiles<a href="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/Smiley.jpg"><img style="width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/Smiley.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"><blockquote>Infectious Smiles Around the World<br /><br />Smiling is contagious<br />You can catch it like the flu<br />When someone smiled at me today<br />I started smiling too.<br /><br />I past around the corner<br />And someone saw my grin<br />And when he smiled I realised<br />That I'd passed it on to him<br /><br />I thought about that smile<br />Then I realised it's worth<br />A single smile just like mine<br />It could travel 'round the earth<br /><br />So if you feel a smile begin<br />Don't leave it undetected<br />Lets start an epidemic QUICK ...<br />And get the world infected.<br /><br />- By Anonymous<br /></blockquote><br />So, I've been thinking about one of the reasons that this place drives me so damn crazy.  People here don't acknowledge each other.  Like when you walk down the street, either you smile and say hello, or you avert your eyes, so as to not make eye contact.  Here they do something wildly different, and it's creepy to me.  Here they don't make a point of averting their eyes - they let you catch them looking at you.  I just don't get that.  It's like when you do make eye contact, they don't even say hello, or do the awkward head nod, nothing.  It's like you're an invisible thing.<br /><br />In Baltimore, mostly people just didn't look at you.  I was ok with that.  Just don't make eye contact... *shrug* I guess that's what I'm used to from growing up.  It's like that in California, too.  (In the south, it's widely accepted that you greet strangers.) <br /><br />There was one guy that I used to see on my walk home from work every morning in Baltimore - I can't remember his name anymore, but oh, what great of a smile he had!  I'm not sure if he was homeless... In my mind I think he is, living at a local shelter or something.  But he was always clean, and never carrying his "home" with him, so I have my doubts.  Anyway, I seemed to cross paths with him regularly - he'd be walking south toward the harbor as I walked north from the harbor area to my apartment.  He would always smile &amp; say good morning.<br /><br />One morning, I was walking home after work.. the weather had started to warm up a bit.. It was in the high 30's, and I ran into him right on the harbor.  He was grinning and said good morning.. he asked why he hadn't seen me in a while. (I hadn't seen him in about 2 weeks)  I told him that I was wondering the same about him.  In the 2 or 3 minutes we stood chatting, he said his hellos and good mornings to a half-dozen passers-by.  He told me, "Everybody knows me here" and that if I ever wanted to find him, just ask around for "xxx with the ponytail"  (Was it John? Maybe Paul? Shit, I don't remember.)  He was genuine, and precious.  I shook his hand and told him that after 2 months of saying hellos, it was nice to meet him officially. <br /><br />As we said goodbye, I was filled with such strong emotion I was holding back tears... Got the feeling that somehow I just shook hands with an angel.  Never did see him again.. but I do think of him.<br /><br />Funny how months later, his smile still stays with me.  Funny how something as simple as a smile can change a world.  Today I am sending you a smile.  A real one- genuine.  Please share it... Let's all be angels that spread joy.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-4523855423353013879?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-27655059964191812022009-06-16T11:15:00.004-05:002009-06-16T13:26:59.885-05:00Rambles & Shambles?Not even going to pretend that I understand what's going on with the elections in Iran right now.  I've tried to read news headlines, but it's lost on me.  The humanitarian in me is aware that there's this so-called "peacekeeping" and stuff, but the realist in me is sick of it.  I think, pending loss of life or limb (at which there is great risk), our troops have more job security than any of us right now.  Bitter? Not really.  Realistic.  Kinda hard to think about the billions of dollars poured into others' worlds when the taxpayers here at home are sick, homeless, &amp; not getting the healthcare they need.<br /><br />There's this bullshit line that's been thrown around for years about how nurses will never hurt for jobs.  Please tell that to all my friends in BFE that have lost their jobs in the last few months.  Try and explain that to my recruiter who has sent my resume to countless different institutions with no response back, because they just can't afford to hire at this time.  Hospitals are going under because people aren't paying, because people aren't employed and insured.  People aren't getting their prescriptions filled because they can't afford them.  They aren't coming in at the first sign of sickness.  Instead, they put it off until it's too late.  They come to the hospital sicker than they ever did.<br /><br />I'm not going to harp on it.. it's just a pretty fucked situation all around.  I've managed to save up about 2 months' worth of expenses, so it will be tight, but I'll be ok for a little bit.  I'm here for about 3 more weeks.  Hopefully, I can line up a job in this time, though.  I'm kinda looking to go home and spend some time at my own house, but I also know what goes with that... sigh.  *shrug* Maybe I'll keep myself busy by cleaning?  I've disconnected my cable tv &amp; internet, so it'll be ... interesting.   (Define interesting as you will, lol!)<br /><br />So, yesterday was my dad's birthday.  Those that know me well know that Mr. Dad is #1 in my book.  Always has been, and I can't imagine anyone superseding that spot.  Spent about an hour talking with him on the phone last night, and it was glorious.  He's not a phone talker, but since we don't see each other often, or even talk often, I think he truly delights in those phone conversations.  This morning I'd done some reflecting, and I'm going try and say this without tears, but today I am so thankful for my dad's 20 years of sobriety. <br /><br />That's all.  Now, I must go to sleep so I can save the world tonight.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-2765505996419181202?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-46667383193600547792009-06-07T23:24:00.004-05:002009-06-08T10:47:44.184-05:00Lost.<object width="320" height="265"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ht0zsE9GPrs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ht0zsE9GPrs&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"></embed></object><br />I'm lost.  Not like the TV show.. just lost.  Right now, I feel a little directionless.  Ok, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">a lot</span> directionless.  I don't usually put video into my blogs, and I don't think I've ever linked to anyone else's vids, but I cannot begin describe in words how much I'm relating to this song right now.<br /><br />I try not to whine or harp on family things, but it's gotten to the point that I can't continue to ignore it - I don't feel important to my immediate family.  There. I said it.  It's out there, and I'm not going to elaborate.  If you know me well, then you understand.  If you don't know me well, then you don't need to know my business.<br /><br />There's a job possibility that I'm looking into.  I'm not sure I want to take it, but in some ways it's probably just what I need/want.  I haven't been offered the job, and I'm not even sure I'll be offered it, but I'm supposed to hear from them for an interview next week.  I don't know.  I hate not knowing.. It's always last-minute in this business for getting my next contract, but it gets a little more stressful with this economy.<br /><br />Jobs aren't available like they once were, and sometimes we need to "settle" for less than what we'd desire.  I hate that I've been feeling like I've been settling.  I'm doing exactly what I've wanted to do for years, and yet I don't feel that joy.  I'm sure the bulk of that is situational... I have no doubt if I actually enjoyed and trusted my coworkers, if I had made some good friends in the area (like I did on my Baltimore assignment) I wouldn't feel the same.  <br /><br />But I do still feel lost - torn between worlds.  Friends ask me all the time when I'm coming home.  I have a house, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">my home</span>, in BFE.  I continue to pay a mortgage on a home where nobody resides.  I have family there in town that couldn't be bothered to pick up the phone and call me.  And there's no work there in BFE.  So yeah, it's home.. but.. is it?  If I went back, what would I go for?  And could I continue to survive when there's a shortage of work, and an abundance of heartache &amp; disappointment from those I'm most closely related?<br /><br />I have an apartment and an income here in Dallas.  The place is nice enough, and there is plenty of work.  But I don't have any connections to the people.  I don't trust them, and I don't share their values.  Right now this place is my home, but it doesn't feel like much of one.<br /><br />I have family who cherish and adore me on the west coast.  I have friends there, many of whom I haven't talked to in years, but still care for deeply.  There's work available, but it's hard to find, and it might end up sending me to facilites that I have mixed feelings about for an extended period of time.  Do I want to bind myself to these facilities?<br /><br />I don't know.  Right now I'm not sure what I'm doing or where I'm going with my life.  I have no doubt I need to continue nursing.  It is my passion, and I truly believe it's my calling.  But beyond that, I'm at a loss... Right now, I have no idea where I belong in this world.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-4666738319360054779?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-38989370895853190522009-06-02T09:52:00.003-05:002009-06-02T10:11:49.356-05:00Hopefully I won't face a Next Time.<img src= http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/avatars/proudofgay.jpg><img src=http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/avatars/1236259.png><img src=http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/avatars/avatarhell_mzkayla68_360535-1.jpg><br /><br />I cried on my drive home today... <br />I cried for the hopelessness of our society.<br />I cried for the prejudices that don't wash free.<br />I cried for my complicit silence...<br /><br />At work, 90% of the time, I'm the only white girl.  90% of the time, I'm also the only non-staff employee, and the only American nurse.  There's at least a good 10-15+ years separating me from most of the staff.  So I'm pretty secluded.  I get along fine with most of the staff, but I'm not part of anyone's circle.  I never quite feel comfortable speaking my mind, so I keep to myself.  I don't share.  There's ONE white american woman that works nights once in a while... I think she's the kind that would like to see Falwell resurrected and elected president.<br /><br />Tonight while charting, two of the Indian nurses were talking to each other a couple feet away from me.  One was from the main tower, serving as acting supervisor for our unit tonight.  She was telling another, young Indian nurse about her busy night the night prior.  She started out saying how she had a lot of antibiotics to be hanging all night on this patient, then proceeds to say, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"And he's gay.  And I hate gay people."</span> Yes, that's in quotes. ... that's not paraphrased... that's exactly what she said.  My whole body nearly convulsed in horror at what I was overhearing.  She then proceeded to say how his partner was in the room, and they had a beautiful little girl.  She talked about how she didn't think it could be theirs, and they must've adopted, but how could they, because they were gay...  I couldn't move.  I didn't know whether to scream, or cry, or what.  My whole body was in shock.. she went on to say how "the little girl shouldn't be exposed to that kind of lifestyle" and how much she hopes that she's not a victim of abuse.  (Alluding to the fact that she thinks this little child would be sexually abused by her parents.)  <br /><br />I cannot tell you how much that ripped me to the core.<br />With every fiber of my being.<br /><br />I was not raised to hate ANYTHING or ANYONE.<br />The only thing in my life that I was allowed to hate was tomatoes..<br />and I was still coerced into eating them on occasion,<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> just to be sure</span>.<br /><br />I've never once heard racial slurs, homophobic talk, sexist talk<br />or whatever else from my parents growing up. Never.<br />Never...<br /><br />Shaken, I held it in for the remaining 7 hours of my shift.<br />Reeling... Thinking there's no way I can work these people again.<br />I called my mom on the drive home... <br /><br />I may have had all kinds of strange things in my life,<br />but without a doubt, I was raised in a world where there was love...<br />and hate was reserved only for things like tomatoes.<br /><br />Next time I won't be silent.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-3898937089585319052?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-70153129738904593172009-05-18T15:31:00.004-05:002009-06-08T01:05:57.128-05:00Med-Surg, Mustangs, & Barbra<img src=http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/barbra.jpg><br /><br />There are more Mustangs in the city of Dallas than there are anywhere in the US.  This isn't official facts, just an observation by yours truly.  I've seen more Mustangs on the road here than I've seen anywhere in my life.  Probably all put together, even.  -- and no, this isn't "blue car syndrome," because I don't own one, and I've never really been a fan of Mustangs.  Two people downstairs have matching silver Mustang convertibles.  There's two other Mustangs that park right in front of my building.  Yeah, there's only like a dozen (give or take) apartments in my building and there's at least 4 Mustangs here.  - My complex is huge.  I couldn't even tell you how many apts are here (There's tons of buildings) and driving around you can see soo many Mustangs - and that's only counting the ones that park in the lot.  Who knows how many are parked in their garages! (We all have our own garage)<br /><br />Worked last night.  Did a shift on Med/Surg.  Oh, M/S how I've missed thee.  Not really, but kinda.  I think if I knew what I was doing, it'd be ok.  But I didn't get oriented to the floor, so I hit the ground running.   Didn't know where my patients rooms were, or where the meds were kept, yadda yadda.  ~~I'd worked last week for this hospital, but they sent me to postpartum, and oriented me there.  I probably should have had at least a few minutes of someone showing me what's where, and how things are done for them.  I asked a bunch of questions, and while nobody was rude, they just didn't have the time to show me what I needed to be doing.  I came home and thought of all the things I didn't do.  I didn't chart that I handed off communication, or do a shift summary.  I didn't chart against a careplan.  I didn't chart pain re-assessments.  Those are just the things I know I didn't do.  *shrug*  But my patients were all alive, and safe.  They were medicated.  I drew &amp; sent their labs.  They had no complaints of care... and isn't that what it's all about?  Just keeping your head above water?  5 patients, plus an 11pm admission (making it your 6th) was a busy night.  I'd be glad to do it all again.  I am clearly a glutton for punishment.<br /><br />I thought I blogged this, but I don't see it anywhere.  I think it's kinda sad that the MD upstairs moved out.  I thought it was funny to see in my building, an MD on the 3rd floor, an RN on the 2nd, and some cops living on the 1st.<br /><br />Went to work on Saturday night, but they cancelled me... and forgot to tell me.  They're paying me 2 hours for "time &amp; trouble".  Since I was in the area, I decided to pop into Ikea.  Saw a bed, and a rug, and a few other things I'd like to have.  But I'm not going to buy them... Why furnish or decorate your home if you don't live there.  It's the middle of May, and I've slept in my house exactly 2 nights this year.  -Everyone keeps asking me when I'm going to come back and stop traveling.  I continue to say that I see no end in sight for this lifestyle.<br /><br />Anyway, at Ikea.  Bought an aloe vera plant while I was there.  Not sure if I'm going to move it with me, or if I'll murder it when my assignment is up.  I named her Barbra.  <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">(Bah-bra)</span>.  Was going to name her Aloishes P. McGuillicudy Jr, (or however the hell you spell it) but thought I need to get an original name.. can't keep naming my plants after other peoples' plants.  (Andrew Nelson the 43rd will remain, however, because it's a perfect, proper, and fitting name).  She's quite beautiful, and yet so ugly.  Great condition, healthy, and firm.  But her stems go all crazy and splay out in a haphazard way.  I haven't decided if it's pretty the way she's all jacked, or if she really is all fucked up, but healthy.  She is hanging out on my dresser for now.  Will reassess in a few weeks, to decide whether I've fallen in love with her and she's worth the trouble moving, or not.<br /><br />I have a thing for naming my plants.  It started with a <a href="http://www.jardinageint.com/flowers/Bromeliad1.JPG">bromeliad</a> that I got at a Cake concert once back in the 90's.  I named her Claire Danes.  not all of my plants have been named, but certain ones garner such affection.  *shrug*  I have no kids.  I have no pets.  I have houseplants... sometimes I let them live, and sometimes I murder them.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-7015312973890459317?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-17894217693459131292009-05-16T09:50:00.001-05:002009-05-18T15:30:18.229-05:00Today I am Thankful for...<a href="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/AmyButlerFrenchWallpaperDuckEgg.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 301px; height: 246px;" src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/AmyButlerFrenchWallpaperDuckEgg.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />1.  My Sanity.<br />2.  My hearing - and vision, &amp; all other senses &amp; limbs, while I'm at it.<br />3.  The beauty of Amy Butler patterns (Duck Egg, the pattern on the left, for example)<br />4.  Cuddling in with my new comforter set.<br />5.  My gray American Eagle sweater that's the perfect blend of comfy &amp; casual without getting bad-hoodie schleppy.<br />6.  Jello sugar-free Dulce de Leche pudding.<br />7.  The am-i-dying phone calls from Sara Jane<br />8.  My jobs. (plural)<br />9.  Massage Envy. (going to book another massage there this week, if I can)<br />10. Days where you just don't get dressed/changed out of what you slept in.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-1789421769345913129?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-62625546734307647582009-05-15T09:14:00.002-05:002009-05-18T15:22:25.052-05:00House<a href="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/House-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 285px;" src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/House-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>In House, things work great.  Patients come in with strange rare diseases, things that severely debilitate, or more commonly, put people on the brink of death.  And somehow things are diagonsed positively, treated and cured (or healing) all within the hour.<br /><br />Let's not even delve into how perfect it is that doctors draw their own lab samples, push their own meds, &amp; run/perform every code!  - I've only once had a patient die when ad doctor was around, and I thought I hit the lottery.  I'd never heard of that happening before, or since.  (At least not on any non-critical floor!)<br /><br />I have a patient whose disease process remains an insane mystery... There is no real Dr. House to figure this shit out.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-6262554673430764758?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-9088757274478333852009-05-10T08:08:00.000-05:002009-06-08T01:18:02.683-05:003 Jobs & a Negative NancyEarned a pretty easy couple hundred bucks last night working with my agency.  It was busy, but mostly easy-peasy.  I'm tired now.  They asked me to come back tonight, but I intend on sleeping today!<br /><br />So, in this shitty economy, people have been scrambling for jobs... and this greedy puta has been holding 3 of them &amp; only working at one.  Changed that this week.  Friday I mailed off my resignation for my job in BFE.  Hard decision to make, but I knew it had to be done... And last night, I took up a shift on my 3rd job (per diem agency).  I worked 14 hours: 2hrs orientation, &amp; 12hrs on the floor with patients.  Thought it was pretty damned funny that the hospital I went to last night is part of the same company I just turned my resignation into!<br /><br />I'm not one to fight, argue, or confront.  And in fact, I'm the kind of person that just gives &amp; gives until she gives up.  Yesterday I've officially given up on a friend I'd recently reconnected with.  I'm not going to rehash everything, because it's not dramatic... Just another life realization.  Dropping another "Negative Nancy" before it can continue to drain me.  Find your road to happiness, dammit!  I can't carry you to your own happiness.  That is one road you must find on your own.<br /><br />..Seeing little tiny lizards on the walls of my apartment building. (outside.)  I'm not creeped out - I think it's endearing.  I like to say hi to them as they come by.  I don't know if they can hear me.  Someday I'll have to look up whether lizards have ears.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-908875727447833385?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-72157358567260457722009-05-08T08:48:00.006-05:002009-05-08T09:08:13.469-05:00Toes, Keys, and Other Big News<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/0508090842.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/0508090842.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />So, I've never really shared this with anybody, and if anyone's actually noticed it, they've never called me on it- but I'm going to open up and share this with you now.  I do this really weird thing with my toes when I'm just laying around, often right before I fall asleep.  It's like the right foot holds the left big toe or something.  The position really doesn't deviate.  Right always holds left; never the opposite.  I don't know how long I've done it, but it's not anything new.  <br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">This is very big news; it's important to know, and that's why I'm bothering telling you so. - (Dr. Seuss' Sleep Book)<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Yeah, I think I've quoted that book more than a couple times through the years on this blog.  Can't help it- it's still my all-time favorite children's book.  And yeah, I have it memorized. (Well, at least like 85-90%... I stumble on a few parts toward the end... I'm often asleep by then!)<br /><br />So, I dropped a Sharpie in the parking lot the other day.  I accidentally ran it over with my truck, and there's dark blue stains all over the ground.  It looks like the pen practically exploded with paint, or something.  I don't know why I'm sharing that, but *shrug* I guess it's a day of sharing unnecessary lame stories?<br /><br />Ok, so I did something incredibly stupid last week.  I checked my mail on the way home from work - tired as all get out after a 12 hr shift, and working on very little sleep, I was like a zombie driving home.  Well, when I put the key in the mailbox, I realized I got a package... I was so excited to see what it was, that I actually drove off and went to my apartment- leaving the key still in the lock.  But it wasn't just the mailbox key; my spare apartment key was on the ring, too.  Yeah, notso good.  The worst part was, it was like 5 days later before I realized what I'd done! ~You know how sometimes you remember things several days after a heavy drinking session? It was kinda like that... </span>Where's my keys?  Wait a minute.. did I..? Oh shit!!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">  Thankfully, someone had turned it into the apartment manager.  I am so thankful for this.  <br />**Lesson learned: Never leave keys in the mailbox.  If you are too tired, you cannot be trusted to check your mail properly.  Wait until you are well-rested, because otherwise you could have a potentially dangerous situation on your hands!<br /><br />I have so much that I think I want to say, but I dont' know where to begin.  I feel like after being away from the blogging thing for a while, I need to play catch-up.  Fuckit.. I'll do it later.  I've been up all night, and I need to sleep.</span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-7215735856726045772?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-388542758096806472009-05-04T05:47:00.004-05:002009-05-04T05:51:04.025-05:00Today I am Thankful For:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/Snapshot_20090504.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/Snapshot_20090504.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>1. Guatemala Antigua coffee<br />2.  100%'s on exams<br />3.  I'm past the halfway point on this assignment<br />4.  Rediscovering how fun it can be to write in pencil.<br />5.  <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/notquitesimplyethan">Nathan's VEDA/VEDIM vlogs</a><br />6.  Starbucks coffee mug (bought for myself on my birthday)<br />7.  Straight hair ponytails<br />8.  Having a good memory<br />9.  Lomotil<br />10. Sit ups work quickly on me.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-38854275809680647?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-74767500880768731692009-05-03T11:51:00.002-05:002009-05-04T05:55:36.097-05:00Just a noteI haven't been blogging.  <br />I still intend to, just got eight million<br />different things going on.  <br /><br />I've been writing, though.  I'm kinda doing a recollection journal<br />(more on that to come, as it develops - trust me, it'll be wild)<br />and I'm making a point to send emails and bits of randomness<br />to friends a little more often... we'll see how that goes.. hmm.<br />-kd.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-7476750088076873169?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-20926222261946947472009-04-24T07:05:00.004-05:002009-04-24T07:28:11.834-05:00Today I am Thankful For:<a href="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/0423091956.jpg"><img style="float:center cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/0423091956.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />1.  Being a grown-up - because as a kid, eating a plate of strawberries for a meal is not appropriate. But as a grown-up, it's considered a "healthy" low-cal dinner!<br />2.  Andrew Nelson the 43rd. I didn't realize how much I love seeing him up there, until I took him down to put him in the sunshine, and really felt sad when he wasn't up on the mantle!<br />3.  Hearing from old friends.<br />4.  Motrin<br />5.  Finding shows you want to watch online.. and not needing cable tv.<br />6.  Used books<br />7.  Feeling comfortable enough with myself that I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">laugh</span> over breaking out like a 16-year-old on prom night..<br />8.  Homemade black bean soup.<br />9.  Tigi "Curls Rock" line of products.<br />10. My Handycam.. I still don't know how to use it too well, but I'm diggin' it.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-2092622226194694747?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-39485716753885460512009-04-13T00:14:00.004-05:002009-04-13T00:53:34.922-05:00Streptococcus & the Death Dinner<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/hospbracelets.jpg"><img height="240px;" width="320px" align="center" src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j150/akakatydid/blogpix/hospbracelets.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div>So this weekend, I ate a modified version of the "Death Dinner," and thought to myself that it's been an awful long time since I've eaten one of those.<br /><br />For those not familiar with the "death dinner," let me explain.. If you've found your way here, you probably know me at least a little bit. And if that's the case, you know I have a slightly twisted, morbid sense of humor.  So, that preface aside, you know when people die, you bring food over.  It's what you're supposed to do. The "death dinner" is nothing more than the fried chicken special from the grocery store.  We always went to Albertson's -- it's fried chicken, plus Hawaiian sweet rolls, and your choice of either potato or macaroni salad. Well at one point, we'd had quite a few people we knew die in a short time - and it seemed like we'd always gone and bought (or someone we knew had bought) the Albertson's fried chicken dinner.  I began to call it <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"the death dinner"</span> and the name stuck within my family. <br /><br />I'm not always crazy about fried chicken, so I almost never buy it.  But I did go to Albertson's deli this weekend and buy their macaroni salad &amp; Hawaiian rolls.  Absolutely delicious.   ... I don't know why I'm saying this- it's just what's on my mind.  I guess there's this little foreboding voice that says "you knew subconsciously that you should be buying this," and I hope that it was all just some big coincidence.<br />***<br />I've been feeling pretty crappy lately.  Woke up Wednesday with a mad-sore throat, and it still hadn't gotten better.  On Saturday afternoon, I finally gave in and headed to get checked out.  I looked for urgent care clinics on my health plan, but none were listed as covered. (Tried to call to see if they could help, but as luck would have it, they're M-F only).  So I called the local hospital that's around the corner from my house and asked if they had an urgent care center around.  I told the girl that I hate to come to the ER  for a sore throat, but nobody seemed to be open &amp; I don't really know my way around.  She told me that their ER wasn't busy, and welcomed me to come by.  (Whoa-really?) So I did- the place is like a quarter mile from my apartment (so convenient) and I've got to say, I was totally impressed - really. In &amp; out in like 90 minutes.  Really really good for an ER! (especially when you come in for something lame like a sore throat.. I kept apologizing for wasting an ER visit for that!)<br /><br /> Turns out it was just as I expected, and I've got strep throat.  No wonder I've been feeling all icky and altogether achy.  So, I'm rockin' the Keflex.  $75 ER copay, &amp; $35 at the pharmacy... I guess I didn't fare too bad.  I'm starting to feel a teeny bit better, not as much blaaaah malaise (still don't feel great, but it'll come).  I've been lying on the couch pretty much all day watching movies that I downloaded from online...  Right now I'm on my 4th movie today - I don't think I've *ever* stayed still that long to watch 4 movies in a day.  There you have it, though - I've got no sick time, and I'm not really allowed to call out, so I'm just letting myself be <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">blehhh</span> today, in hopes that I'll be better in time for work tomorrow.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-3948571675388546051?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12032001.post-4954252365887010012009-04-09T19:08:00.002-05:002009-04-09T19:20:02.265-05:00Just Some ThoughtsSeriously considering quitting my job in BFE.  I really don't want to deal with it. Haven't worked there since November, and keeping up with their requirements is the last thing I want to do - considering all the requirements for keeping up with this job here in Dallas!  I left a message for my manager but still haven't heard back from her.  I think I need to make an effort to follow up more.<br /><br />Also, I'm kinda having a "moment."  I don't want to be old.  Can I turn like 22 or 23 this year?  At what point am I too freakin old to be fun &amp; youthful? I think I may have already crossed that line... IDK.<br /><br />Strawberries are good.  Always strawberries in April.. Glad I've got my birthday off- maybe I'll make myself some strawberry shortcake... Maybe I'll go to the arboretum and spend it surrounded by flowers.<br /><br />Got a mad-sore throat.  Sleeping still very short amounts, but finally getting really DEEP sleep each time.  I think I'm fighting something awful- but I'm pretending that I'm fine, because I can't afford to be sick.<br /><br />Wish I knew more people here in Dallas.  The people I work with aren't exactly a great bunch.  (I stand by my prior assessment of them being snobby and cliquey) Signed up for info from a per-diem agency here in town... haven't heard from them yet, but I'm interested in picking up extra shifts for some additional money - and who knows, maybe I'll meet some cool people at other hospitals! ~~ and as for booty.  I'm kinda over it.  Not in the mood for Dallas booty.  (This may change at some point in the coming weeks, but for now, I'm very <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"meh"</span> about it.)<br /><br />Aunt Margo made a tweet about "carrying your own weather" the other day.  I'd never heard that, so I looked it up, and was pleased to read about it... I think it's really what I'm talking about when I posted the other day about cutting cancers out of my life.  I want to surround myself with people who carry their own weather, and not play victim to "poor me" and "entitlement" syndromes.<br /><br />My brain rambles.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12032001-495425236588701001?l=akakatydid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>AKAKatydidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11015192563617045780noreply@blogger.com0// Unknown error