Shhh! I am reading.

I am off school for the summer, so I am getting a chance to enjoy some novels and non-fiction books that have lingered on my shelf. Often while I was studying over the last few months I would glance longingly at them and wished I could curl up with a good book. Not that “Understanding Pathophysiology” isn’t a good book, but it isn’t exactly a gripping read or a light diversion.

I am also working for the summer, so my books are going with me to work to be read during my breaks. Strangely enough, some of my coworkers look at a person reading a book and think it is no big deal if they want to interrupt to gossip.

Can’t you see I am reading, here?

I have been a lot quieter than usual. I crave the silence of just sitting and reading a book. I am not too interested in the TV, and talking to anyone who is not a close friend is just not appealing to me. I don’t want to have to explain myself right now. I just want the fit of hand in glove that comes with my old, treasured friendships. They know I am going through hell, and they let me choose to not talk about it if I want. But I also know that if I suddenly fall apart and start crying they will be on me in a moment with comforting hands and murmured words that have the magical effect of keeping me from flying right out of my skin.

Least of which do I want to put down my book to talk about who is dating who in Hollywood, or weigh in on who should get poor doomed Michael Jackson’s children. Maybe it is the way my life is rolling out these days, but I just don’t have any patience for trivial prattle like that. Not without a full complement of cocktails, anyway.

I know that the majority of the people I work with don’t need to hear about the very serious business that my life has become, although a few of them do want to hear about it for schadenfreude purposes. And it isn’t their job to give a flying fig about me, but it is so much nicer when somebody does. I just don’t expect my coworkers to invest like that.

I just want to read a book. Shhh…

The Wellness Plan

So, I started back to school today, which is wonderful. I was so glad to be back and see my classmates. I gave and received many hugs. Of course, we hit the ground running, so there is already tons of work to do, but it still feels so much more purposeful than my desk job.

To make it through last semester, I had a rough outline of my wellness plan in my head, and I did a pretty good job of sticking to it. This semester I thought I would write it down and share it.

So here it is, in a nutshell: clean living. As clean as possible, anyway.

1. Proper diet: including taking a daily multivitamin and limiting the refined sugar and white flour, etc. No fads or crazy diets, just nourishing my body with lean proteins and veggies etc.
   
2. Proper sleep: That means as few all night study sessions as possible.
   
3. Time management: even if I have to write myself a to-the-minute schedule daily (with breaks, of course), I have to stay on task, especially if I want to get some sleep.
4. Exercise: SO important. Even if it does take an hour a day away from my books, I need to get up and MOVE.
5. Very little alcohol
6. Meditation time: sometimes a good workout is a good mental break, but I need time to attempt to still the torrent in my mind.
   
7. Family time: accomplished most readily with family dinner, but I can't be nose in a book 24/7.
8. Art: The hardest thing to make time for in my science curriculum. But I drag my poetry notebook around in my backpack, just in case.
9. Brainless entertainment: especially TV that makes me laugh. Gotta break up the stress.
10. Study, study, study: Nothing would give me a better endorphin rush than getting good grades.
11. Proper Hand Washing: you would be surprised how this one simple thing will keep you from getting sick.
    

Go me! Yay!

Some days this is HARD to do. But just trying to be mindful of it daily really seems to help.

General Malaise

It must be the job.

Or something in the water at the job.

But I am kinda cranky.

Being at school is totally stressful, but also entirely wonderful and autonomous and fantastic. After being off work for four months, I am back at the office for a few weeks during winter break. It is annoying. That, in and of itself, should not be worthy of a blog post.

But I am crabby all the time right now. The dogs are driving me to distraction. The husband and kiddo are conspiring to make messes everytime I get things cleaned up. The Dachshund keeps jumping into the dishwasher when I am trying to load it. I feel snappish.

I need some Zen, sitting on top of a lonely peak, by myself time. I can't even be alone at home, since for some reson that labrador retriever has decided I am her servant and I think she has dementia because she asks for food two seconds after she eats. the house is decidedly not quiet with the near constant barking and whining. Grrr. That is me growling.

I wish I could say that there is at least some comic relief here in my being generally annoyed. Maybe I am having perimenopausal hormone imbalances. Fuck it, I don't know. I feel like I want to back a truck up to my house and get rid of a bunch of stuff. Either that or I need a bigger house. There just seems to be no place for all the effluvia. Even my desk is a bloody mess of papers and I would set fire to the whole thing if it weren't for the fact that SOME of those papers require action on my part. Feh.

I need a bulldozer. I'd like to lighten my load for the new year. When I was a youngster, I moved to my first apartment with only what would fit in the bed of a pickup truck. Not anymore. Last time I moved I had 53 boxes just for the kitchen.

I love my stuff and I hate my stuff. I'm drowning in it. I feel like I am complaining about being too rich or too skinny or something. I have no reason to be crabby and every reason to feel blessed. So why do I want to torch it all?

This being forty thing just might be for suckers. Midlife crisis? How cliche.

Back to Work

During the winter break from school I am obliged to work back at my old desk job. It is a small price to pay for my generous scholarship, but going back to the cube farm after four and a half months of semi-autonomy was pretty jarring.

The truth is that when I am in school, there is a sort of built in feedback system. I mean sure, there are tests and homework, but there are GRADES. Sometimes good, sometimes not so much, but at least someone is paying attention to how I am doing and giving me feedback to improve.

Going back to work, where I am reminded by my boss what a cog in the great machine I am was a real letdown yesterday. She didn't ask me how my semester was or even really welcome me back, but immediately went into the old song and dance about how our department was shortstaffed and outgunned. Nothing has changed here. I am doing a bit better today because I am back in the groove more, but yesterday dragged on and on.

I sound like a big baby here, but after getting such nice compliments from my professors and academic advisors, I felt like a snowflake: a unique and beautiful thing that is learning new things with grace. Yesterday I melted into a little puddle with the rest of the drips. It was a yucky feeling.

All this coming on the heels of my spectacular birthday cocktail party and dinner is a bit hard to swallow. I know it is just my bruised ego. But I am reinventing myself, or at least doing some major career refurbishing, so this feels like a step back, although admittedly a temporary one.

Yeah, at least I have a job to complain about. I need to be more grateful, and I really am. I will be even more grateful when school starts again. For about a minute. Then the stress of that will be a culture shock to me again.

I like school, though. I miss it already. And I will be glad to see my new friends there again.

Cake for breakfast is okay, right?

My coworkers got together and got me a huge cake and a lovely card as a going away gift today. Since I start orientation for school tomorrow, I will be in and out of the office this week. That is super sweet of them. They even remembered that I am allergic to walnuts and didn't get carrot cake like they usually do for birthdays, etc.

It is a white cake with chocolate mousse filling and cream cheese icing. It is a total gut bomb and the sugar is going to put me into orbit, but it makes me feel good that they went to the trouble.

Cake for breakfast is okay sometimes, right?

Thanks guys!

What I want for when I grow up

It has been pointed out to me in recent weeks that I am an artist. Like, really an artist. Not just a dabbler with a day job. I think I really have been longing to hear that my whole life, and I am deeply grateful to the people who have taken the time to tell me. It is more rewarding and wonderful than being thought to be beautiful, or even smart, although it may encompass both of those things at times.

Now that I am really close to unbuckling myself from the daily grind that is my day job in favor of going to school for nursing for the next 2 years, I am starting to feel the surge of momentum that is bringing me closer to my goals, and that is a real rush.

Not that being a RN is my big goal. Far from it. The RN thing is merely a better, higher paying, and more flexible and portable "day job". What I really want to do is explore my horizons as an artist and how that relates to my interest in helping others make art.

I am not sure what shape that is going to take, or even if what I want to do will work in Reno. It all started with my "Writers' Dungeon" idea that I didn't have the time to really get off the ground. But I want to create a "creating studio" space for writers and artists from other media to work in a supportive and focused environment. Not a "support group" per se, because talking about making art is not the same as actually making art. I would want to have as part of that regular "salons" where the art can be shared with the collective and/or the public.

I got the idea in part from the San Francisco "Red Room" concept, (http://www.red-room.com/) but want to expand it to include the visual arts and music.

Like I said, I don't know if Reno is really the place for this. It would thrive more in a more cosmopolitan city like Seattle or San Francisco or some locales on the East Coast I can think of. I might even be able to launch a kind of virtual equivalent to start with, but I like the idea of being at the forefront of community building as much as I like creating my own art.

Writing is a largely solitary exercise, but promoting it from that place is really hard, and getting over creative blocks is hard without friends/peers to support you.

I have to spend a lot of time doing science for the next 2 years. But you need to know that this is where my heart is. Sometimes I feel like I am going to need to live forever to accomplish all that I want to do with my life.

I am open to suggestions, but mostly I just wanted to thank the people who believe in me. It matters to me, and I am grateful, and I love you.

I am a Spectacular Failure

That is, I am willing, to an extent, to fail. Of course it makes me miserable sometimes when I do, but when something is important to me, I'll go out on a limb. Following that metaphor, I do fall out of the tree entirely sometimes, but other times I get a spectacular view.

I like the whole "nothing ventured, nothing gained" approach. I adore trying new things and meeting new people. Maybe sometimes it looks a little random the way I throw myself into the deep end of new projects and try to clumsily swim. Luckily for me, if I can get into the right frame of mind, I don't mind looking like a fool if it gets a laugh out of my friends. Since I can't really pull off "graceful", I'll go with coltish and hopefully end up just like a cute little dope if I mess up.

I know so many talented and interesting people that I do feel like the court jester on occasion. My life feels like a slapstick, madcap comedy to the outsider's gaze. That suits me fine most of the time, but lately shit has been so damn serious that efforts to lighten things up have seemed Sisyphean.

I for one can't wait until school starts. Of course, the people at work are not making it easy for me. Some are just jealous, because my scholarship is a huge benefit that they have not worked to get like I had to. If they want to get all bitchy because they didn't choose to spend two years taking grueling biology classes to prepare for the nursing program, I can't really do anything about that.

I found out through the grapevine that even though I am leaving in a few weeks, they aren't content to leave me in my same desk until I go, and are moving me to a smaller one this week. I'm mostly just annoyed that I wasn't told earlier or, I don't know, by management. Geez.

But I get to throw myself into an intense course of study soon. I actually CAN'T fail at that. I have a contract that says I have to keep a certain GPA or risk severe penalties. Fortunately for me, I have a pretty good noodle on my shoulders, and tend to get very good grades.

I need to take up actual juggling, since I do so much virtual juggling. The fact that I can't juggle seems out of character for me. I should be able to do all kinds of circus tricks. I already twist myself in knots to try to meet the needs of the people around me!

New adventures are coming. I am so sick of waiting. Once I am neck deep in it I may regret saying that, but won't it be nice to have some measure of forward momentum again?

How am I doing?

Most of my friends and some of my family know I have a blog. Some of them read it. All of them tell me how I should keep in touch more often. Even the ones who read it regularly never comment on the blog, or they mention it in passing when they finally pin me down on the phone.

Mostly people call me and say: "I never hear from you, but I hear from your mom (or your other friend or your husband) that you have a lot going on. How ARE you?"

Maybe people just don't find my writing very entertaining, or what I share here seems withholding in some way. It is true that the minutiae of my life is not chronicled here. But how I am doing overall seems pretty well covered if you are paying attention.

I'm contemplating my life and my art and my identity and my worth. That's how I am. I'm thinking about how the world in my head sometimes gets mangled when I try to lay my hands on it and bring it to fruition. I'm wondering if I get points for good intention when I try to be of comfort to others and end up being inadequate. I'm wondering how I can be getting a bunch of things I have worked hard for and still find ways to feel like I am not enough for the world.

I'm thinking about the nature of motherhood and wife-dom and womanhood and lover-ness and artistry. I am pressuring myself to fit all of that into the crucible that is my limited 24-hour day.

Is the real question "Are you cracking under the pressure?" because a lot of people tell me that they could never juggle the number of plates I have spinning on a daily basis. I have been known to hold down multiple jobs and freelance writing gigs and still feed my family and write notes for whatever creative writing projects in the margins. I have had two pieces of paper on my desk: one with a diagram of the nucleotide bases in a genome that codes for a specific amino acid or some such and another with a heartrending and almost too personal to share bit of poetry about how much I still long for my dead grandmother's hands on my fevered brow. Ambidextrous me, I drink coffee lefty so I can write righty. Little A imitates me by putting her play cell phone to one ear, while juggling a book, a teddy bear and a sippy cup. She mutters, "Yeah, me too." into the phone.

So, am I cracking? You mean more than usual? Aren't we all?

Acceptance!

I got my certified letter today that I have been accepted to the RN program of my choice! Hot Shit!

It's about time, too. I was really not looking forward to figuring out Plan B. Or was it Plan C or D?

So, starting in August I will be a full-time student with a full scholarship and I won't have to go to work for a while. Yay! After the brutally hard work I put in to get accepted, I am gratified to see it paying off.

I'm just looking forward to having a job again that people (think they) understand. Being a chef was like that.

So, bring on the sexy nurse jokes!

Nurses Eat Their Young!

Let's face it. People are cannibals, and nurses are the worst. You would think that taking care of the sick would require a gentle disposition. You would be wrong. You have to be part sadist to want to learn how to start a foley catheter on a man.

I have long heard it said that Nurses eat their young, meaning that as new nurses come up through the academic system, they are placed in the care of more experienced nurses for training. Often, the abuse sets in right there, with the older nurses behaving spitefully towards the new ones. The book in this photo is a real book that Kathleen Bartholomew wrote about it. Nurses joke about it all the time.

What gives? Is it because nursing is a traditionally female profession, and women are just bitches? I have met a lot of nurses over the years who are absolute pit vipers. One of the nurses I work with is so damn mean, we have to warn all the new people about her. She also smokes like a coal factory. Gross.

When I think about this, it makes me a little ill. I have one of those personalities that seems to make me a magnet for hostility. I wonder how much of that crap I am going to have to swallow. I am notoriously snappish if I get picked on, and backing me into a corner makes me come out fighting like a rabid wolverine. I run with scissors, dammit. Don't mess. But that doesn't do wonders for my career. I'm trying to better myself here. Sometimes I think I was better off as a chef, where people just expected me to be tempestuous and cranky.

I mentioned a while back that I have a great interest in Anthropology, and that I was considering a degree in that if the Nursing program I have been killing myself to get into doesn't work out.

Then Minya told me that the UNR Anthropology has more snakes in it than the Well of the Souls. That the atmosphere is very catty, and that the professors gang up on students they don't like. Fucking great luck for me. Now I really don't know what to do. That bothers me. I thought that was a good Plan B. I may still look into it and try my luck with the Anthropology cannibals.

In either case, it appears that I should get out my recipes for "long pork".

The VA makes Going Postal Obsolete!

I have long suspected this, but a recent survey confirmed it. Veteran's Health Administration employees undergo TWICE AS MUCH verbal abuse and risk of workplace violence than the employees of the Postal Service.

In the six years I have been working for the VA, I have personally experienced or witnessed the following:

1. A male staff member threatening to cut off the ponytail of a female staff member with a giant knife that was brandished in front of more than 20 patients.

2. A patient assault the clinic director with his quad cane.

3. I was backed against an elevator and forcibly told to "get right with Jesus".

4. A patient threatened a physician with a knife in an attempt to get narcotics prescribed to him.

5. The patient in #5 made innapropriate sexual comments about my breasts that same day.

6. I was threatened by a patient who told me he would murder me if I didn't get his doctor to write a precription for morphine for him.

7. A co-worker bragged about his skills as a practioner of black magic that allowed him to get revenge on anyone who crossed him. He also noted how many guns he has, and that people who mess with him always pay.

8. A co-worker beat up his wife in the parking lot by slamming her head against the hood of the car.

9. I have be screamed at, harrassed, gossiped about, and directly threatened by both patients and co-workers.

10. We all deal with hostility from the patients on a daily basis.

None of these patients have been banned from getting care here, although some have been reprimanded.

None of the staff mentioned has ever been fired.

In your face, Post Office.

Why on earth do I stick around? Three words: NURSING SCHOOL SCHOLARSHIP

If I don't get accepted to the Nursing program, I am so outta here. Life is just too short.