…so very yum.
That’s all I’ve got.
Who do you? To me, humans are endlessly difficult and disappointing. They are also amazing and lovable. They are exhausting. I am right about that if nothing else.
It happens. I think about it a lot – the idea waxes and wanes with the years. Clearly I haven’t made it a reality yet. So many times it seems like the answer. On the whole, it’s a ridiculous idea – we’re all going to die anyway, so why? The why is a hard question to answer to many people, I think. For me, it ends up being one answer: I’m tired.
I am, actually, on paper. I have an RN, extant in both New York and Ohio. As I say, on paper. I got a good degree with good grades from a good institution. Passed my boards with no problem. The thing was – I loved my job at the time. I would still love it if the job still existed, so I never actually practiced nursing. Now I am in such a corner, at such a damned crossroads with regard to my life slash career… I really could turn this blog into something if I could get past the block in my head, if only to tell my own ridiculous story! Anyway, I don’t want to be a nurse. There, I said it. I did beautifully in clinicals with actual patients, and I am very engaged by medicine, especially of the infectious disease variety. I could be a good nurse. The thing is, though – I love plants. I love agriculture. I love being outside – I love trees and dirt and animals and working my ass off. I love tractors and being muddy and working in the rain – and in the sun. From what I have witnessed regarding the nursing culture? No thank you. I posted a simple question on a popular nursing message board and was piled on by all kinds of nurses in all kinds of ugly ways – over the topic of how nurses treat one another. Answer enough in itself. So. I have been underemployed for nearly two years now – in ag and in a greenhouse setting – but you know? I still want to do it. Probably stupid. Likely stupid. It’s what I’m good at, though. It’s what I’m passionate about. It makes me not want to kill myself. I suspect nursing would have me on the side of a tall bridge before very long.
So I guess we’ll see. I’m supposed to start an RN to BSN program next month, and I have been laid off for the season at the job I care about. Conundrum.
I am tired. I am tired and frustrated and disappointed. In myself, in my significant other, in my life.
I guess that’s all for now. Truly riveting writing, I know.
So, I’ll just go ahead and say it: I’m a cat lady. It’s true. I only have a single cat, but I love him dearly. The past two years of my life have been sort of disastrous and horrible in many ways; he has been my best buddy and my solid fuzzy rock. He didn’t start out that way… he came to me through a car window in a grocery store parking lot (Shop Rite in New Paltz, NY!) from a friend who was overwhelmed by wildlife babies. I told her I would take the tiny sick kitten she was also trying to care for. He was about two and a half weeks old when I got him. He weighed 8 ounces. He had a severe respiratory infection, goopy eyes, and he was flea-ridden. The vet told me she’d heard worse lungs, but not much worse. Anyhow… I told everyone I was just going to foster him and then find him a good home. No one actually believed that tale but me. Fast forward to today? My baby is a luxurious four year old with thick, glossy black fur, a bright white badge on his chest… and a bum right eye, the leftovers of his kittenhood illness. His doctor asked if I wanted her to remove the eye, but he still had vision in it – still does – it’s just cloudy. And it tears – scarred tear ducts, I’m sure. He is kind of a punk, but he is learning to be gentle, and if nothing else, he is a total mama’s boy… which is fine by me. Right now I feel as though it’s me and him against the world. I am so glad to have him by my side. He’s a fighter – he never would have lived otherwise – so I will try to take that lesson from him. My bub, my Remington.