My last break. Ever.

I am a senior in college with no intention of ever obtaining another degree (according to me, not dad), and this spring break is potentially my last break. Ever.

And I wasted it.

Doing homework.

And now its gone.

Forever.

Goodbye.

Out of that 9 day vacation, 36 hours was spent at clinicals doing nursey things. 12 hours on my research paper. 6 hours on my poster presentation for that research paper. 15 hours doing homework which is still not finished. 10 hours writing resumes, applying for jobs and things of that nature. And 15 hours at work.

Ah well, at least I got to spend 24 hours goofing off in Dallas with my equally goofy friends.

Senioritis.

Underneath the serene facade of this nursing student in her last semester of college,

There's a crazy demon clawing to get out.

Hello senioritis to the max.

7a-7p

So working a 12 hour shift isn't as bad as some people make it out to be. Heck ya I made it through. Of course it maybe-perhaps-could be because of the 36 ounces of a certain caffienated beverage in my system.

Over and out. Goooonite.

I have a rant...

I have a rant. I have a ran about the combination lock to the laundry room at my apartment complex.

The lock is stupid.

The lock has an IQ of a baby chicken.

The lock deserves to be put in a mental asylum.

Because you see, the combination lock refuses to work on the first, second or third try. No, it buzzes and beeps but never unlocks till 5 minutes later.

Which would be fine if it happened on a nice warm summer evening, when the sky is clear, with the stars clearly shinning through the atmosphere, and crickets cheerfully chirping in the background.

But when temperatures are below freezing, and all you are dressed in are pj's and a random jacket you grabbed from the back of a chair, it would be nice not to be stuck on the cold end of a door, punching in numbers and freezing my hiney off.

Or maybe I should just stop doing laundry in the dead of the night in sub zero temperatures.

Maybe I am the one with the IQ of a baby chicken.

Meet Atticus

Atticus Finch is a fictional character in the novel "To Kill a Mockingbird". He has a daughter named Scout Finch, and he is super gungho about racial equality. The part about racial equality has nothing to do with this blog post. Not that I don't like racial equality, in fact, I'm ALL FOR IT. But what really matters for the next 2 minutes of your life (or however long you take to read this post) is that Daddy Finch is named Atticus, and Girly Finch is named Scout.

So waaaaay back in Summer 2011 when I was road tripping, I named my GPS Scout because, hey its a GPS, and it scouts for stuff. I then decided that when I got my car, I'd name him Atticus. 6 months later, and I finally got a car to go with that name.

Guys, meet Atticus.

May he not be wrecked.

Gobble gobble

I haven't blogged a peep since Thanksgiving break. Since then, I have learnt more than I want to know about coronaryarterydiseaseventricularvsatrialheartfailuresystolicvsdiastolicheartfailureleftvsrightsidedheartfailurehyperlipidemiacardiomyopathyx3myocardialinfartionanginasx4 and all the lab values, diagnostic tests, interventions, assessments, signs and symptoms that go with that.

And after that was the dreaded comprehensive final which nearly killed me.

However, nothing was more horrendous than waiting for the results. And that meant refreshing my internet browser every 10 minutes to check grades. That went on for 48 hours, mind you.

But we passed, and I am a happy girl.

So back to thanksgiving which was a hundred times more interesting than the final 2 weeks of school.

#1 I watched all 8 Harry Potter movies over 2 days. I'm still not a fan, but hey, I can say I completed a Harry Potter marathon. Not many people (in their right minds) have done that, will do that, or wish to do so.

#2 I cooked a turkey. Mainly because my roommate's work gave her one and she didn't know what to do with it. But also because its Thanksgiving, and Thanksgiving ain't Thanksgiving till there's a 15 pound bird on the table. So they say.

So after the break, I made the mistake of telling my boss I made a big @$$ turkey for thanksgiving. He asked me how big. I said as big as my donkey. I am yet to live that down.

Flip flops in November

Today I learnt that maybe I shouldn't have worn flip-flops and shorts out when I knew I would be out for over 12 hours. You see, the weather has a habit of dropping drastically when the sun sets, and biking in near freezing weather is no fun when your toes are about to drop off.

Just thought I'd share.