Brainshambles|

I got my first nasty comment from a stranger.

brainshambles.com has officially lost it’s virginity. yessssss.

Despite my rigorous efforts to develop an affinity for soy milk, I can now say with confidence…it is all effing gross. Plain, vanilla, chocolate, low fat, regular…all of it. Nasty. And now I have to finish off two full cartons, one vanilla and one chocolate.

I have a riding lesson tonight and then I plan on praying to the sleep gods. If I could just get 4 full hours…oh, to be so lucky. Then it’s up at 4:30 a.m. tomorrow morning for another day of clinical AWESOMENESS. Can you sense my sarcasm? Is it burning your retinas?

I was hoping to experience two evenings in a row of orgasmic sleep, but last night was just not my night. Although their commercials are witty and quite enticing, the makers of Rozerem LIE. Mass media LIARS. Yes my dreams miss me, no I won’t be seeing them soon.

On top of my characteristic insomnia, I was blessed with a spring time allergic reaction. For me, this means a bright red neck, insane itching, and a head full of snot. Makes for a lovely evening. But I will sacrifice my good health for pleasant weather. When the temperature is above 50 degrees, life seems to suck a lot less. I am so ready for this weekend. Even though I have to work tomorrow morning at 7:30 a.m., I don’t CARE, because that means one more day of NOT being in a clinical with a psychotic, mumbling, menopausal professor. Speaking of clinicals, I finally ordered two new pair of crispy white scrub pants that should actually fit me. And they are halfway cute…as cute as white can be on a pear shaped petite.

Off to watch some Discovery Channel. Yeah.

I took my last Ambien sample last night. And this time, instead of sitting around waiting for it to kick in and make me drunker than hell, I did it the right way. Took the pill, went directly to bed.

MUCH better results, I must say. This is the first time in months I have slept 8 full hours. Hopefully my elevated energy level will make this morning’s clinical less horrifying. I’m praying that I don’t get someone who has diarrhea, or diapers, or urinary incontinence or something. I just am not ready for that kinda hotness. Seriously.

Time to guzzle my coffee, and mentally prepare.

So this morning, APPARENTLY…I deserved a verbal ass kicking, IN FRONT of patients, because the linens on the bed I made had two wrinkles, at the corners. This professor, who has NO idea what is going on, in any area of her/our lives, is making my entire clinical group’s first experience on the floor a complete and living hell. I have been up for about 15 hours straight, and so glad to be home. Tomorrow should be awesome, I have to be up bright and early (again) for a quiz, a lecture, a pharmacology test (yet to be studied), and then a lovely evening of shitty-quality nursing homework. Because apparently, I am just a peon in the world of health care, and a complete failure because I allow my linens to become wrinkled, and spend time actually trying to do a little research on my patient before I enter his room.

Guess what I’m doing all night long?

How one human being is actually capable of living, surviving, thriving off of such little sleep is beyond me.
Yet somehow, I am managing to do it. I plan on trying to nap a bit before my riding lesson tonight, or I may just fall off and die. Last night was quite unpleasant. Laying in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, it really starts to drive one to madness.

I get to the point where its like, 2:00 a.m. and I am thinking “What a freaking waste of time. Why can’t it just be 6:30 so I can get up and drink some coffee and get this stupid lame ass day started.”

And then there was the other day, when I did manage to fall asleep, only to wake shortly after dreaming about losing my teeth. Which apparently, means someone is about to die. Fabulous.

But I digress.

The sun is shining, and I have some pharmacology to study.

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*

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.