Brainshambles|

I was doing so well.

Until dinner, and then east coast custard…which turned into a total custard binge session.
I can already visualize this week’s weigh-in. It will look something like this:

1. katelyn steps on scale
2. scale shows gain of 2 pounds
3. katelyn rips out hair
4. another week of FAILURE.

At least the custard was damn, damn good. I didn’t lose it over night, so I shouldn’t gain it overnight. That’s what they say. On the bright side, Kyle treat me to a size 2 (read it again, size 2) pair of curvy jeans from the Gap outlet. I am not much of a Gap girl, but I can’t pass up a pair of well fitting jeans.

Anyways. I had a very therapeutic ride this morning, on Vinny…my most coveted horse. It was a nice little mental break, before tomorrows massive homework marathon. I hate that I hold things off. It’s strange really, since I am so anal retentive about being on time, sticking to my schedules, etc etc. Yet, I still manage to hold off important tasks until the last minute. But i always manage to pull something out of my ass. And it usually isn’t half bad.

I should put this on all future job resumes:

*works very well under pressure at expense of sanity*

I’ve tried to post THREE fucking times, and it keeps deleting everything I write.

DAMNITTTTTTTTTTTTTttttttttttttttttttttt.

Last night, although largely uneventful, was exactly what I needed after this hellish week. I sat in my minuscule apartment with my goofy man, and we enjoyed one another. I was starting to forget what it felt like to have a doting companion because we have both been so busy with our hectic lives. (Well, I would hardly call his life hectic, but I will give him the benefit of the doubt). However, he surprised me last night with the desire to “cuddle”…a term most specimens of the male race detest.

Because I never sleep, I took the opportunity this morning to skip my African History lecture and marinate under my covers. Minus the terrible sinus pressure, it was a lovely way to begin my day. If only the sun would come out, and I could open the door to our balcony.

I have absolutely no bankage, but I am having a hard time resisting the urge to shop this morning. Err…afternoon. Why sit here on my day off, when I can continue to exhaust more resources I don’t have? Beachwood mall…mmmmmm.

Maury Povich, I love you.

So I am finally getting all this jazz up and running. Still need to figure out how to get my flickr crap in the right spot. Until then, here’s whats up. So I just wrapped up my second week of clinicals, and I thought I may never get through. I kept thinking to myself, “if I can just make it through Thursday, if I can just make it through Thursday.” Somehow, I managed to even ace my medication math final, finish up my first 9 hour care plan, and pass my medication skill check.

This nursing shit is wearing me thin. And it’s only the tip of the iceberg. Two more years of this. It’s too bad I wasn’t diagnosed bipolar earlier…I never would have gotten myself into this hot mess. Seriously, how does someone transfer from ART school to NURSING school. Seriously?

I can’t even do long division, or comprehend the metric system. What the hell was I ever thinking. I can see it now.

“Hello Mr. Smith, my name is Katelyn and I will be your nurse today. Let me now incorrectly calculate your heparin dose, and put you into a state of complete internal hemorrhage. Have a nice day! Oh, by the way, I am a status hypochondriac, so please don’t fucking cough on me.”

But regardless, I must now make do of this situation. There is no more time for mind changing, and the loans are piling up high. I’d kill to be an English major. Or heck, even back to a graphic design major (which sucked hardcore, but nothing in compare to this).

Hopefully I can get over the bed bathing/colostomies/vomit and fear of virulent contagious diseases, and find my niche. Which I am assuming will be in a psychiatric ward. At least I will have no doubt that I can connect with those people.

Off to drink some wine, and make my delicious, non fat, 3 weight watchers points, thin-and-tasteless-as-paper cheese pizza. YUM.