Nursing School. The good, the bad, the emotion.

The emotional rollercoaster of nursing school has gone a little like this:

Oh this is easy, all this information is pretty straight-forward… Then one of my classmates will make a point and I instantly think, what the hell? Where did she find that information? The next thing I know, my easy-going demeanor is suddenly being turned upside down. Worry sets in and I start to wonder, what am I doing?

My studying goes much the same way. I’ll look at all the papers, notes, power points, etc. and think, oh I got this! Next thing I know I am looking at the exam thinking, holy shit, I SO don’t have this! Every time it turns out fine, but the emotional instability makes me exhausted. Literally. I’ve found myself crawling under the sheets at 7pm more than a few times this quarter. You know, like more sleep is going to keep this emotional train from potentially running off the tracks.

Case and point: Tomorrow we have a conference. Since the beginning of the quarter, people have been looking forward to this conference. A day of lectures and food! All we have to do is show up in professional dress. I was just looking through my wardrobe looking for this “professional dress”. I can find moisture wicking clothes or cotton clothes, there are summery dresses and party dresses, there are even silk tops… but nothing that qualifies as professional dress.

Let’s be honest here. I’ve been professional in my life. I’ve also been dressed. However, I think of a few times where I have been professionally dressed, and those clothes are clearly no longer in my possession. Luckily, I can pull something together from this sad excuse of options. Now if I only had shoes….

I manage to find a pair of shoes that work. They are the shoes I had at the same time as these mythical professional clothing items I’m vaguely remembering. Yes, all the memories of having to be professionally dressed (there were so few I can remember them all - one by one). The last time I wore these shoes, I dropped a tomato on them.

“ARRrrghhh!”
I’m sure the neighbors heard it.

This, my friends, is the shock of realizing there is still tomato on my shoe from, what, three years ago! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!? Jesus Christ, I mean, come on! I’ve moved about 7 times since then, have I not cleaned the tomato off my shoe? I’ve climbed about a zillion mountains and I couldn’t have taken the time to pick the crusted on-not even red in color anymore-tomato off of my shoe.

This is me these days. If you haven’t seen me, it’s because I am in hiding. Kidding… it’s actually because I’ve been reading. That, or finding any way to not derail this train.