Last weekend: These days

Sunday 9:00 am
I’m sitting here in my room. It’s been a long weekend of sorting through school work and this health assessment semester project I’ve been putting away the past few weeks. I don’t have a choice but to finish them today, since both are due tomorrow. Don’t think me lackadaisical for procrastinating my work. It’s just been a lot of toil lately. I barely have time for myself. I look around at my room and I wonder what I’m turning into. I’ve never really been one for domestic chores, but these days get really bad: days old laundry calling out to me from the basket, dishes from last night begging to be cleaned. My room is in such a mess, reflecting a Kodak image of my many days of stress.

Typical day wakes me up @ 5:30am to arrive at the hospital for clinicals that begin at 7. Breakfast is a must when you basically have to stand the whole day. Lunch isn’t until 12. And it gets hard the days I get 7-7 shifts. Its certain I’m going home dreary and worn out. But sleep is never soon, you have to study. You have to go through your notes and look through the medical dictionary to find the meaning of all the strange words you’ve only encountered the first time. You seek to understand the mechanisms of action of your patient’s medications and why an alternate drug is given to counteract the adverse effects of the other, if there be any. Yesterday, you didn’t perform like you think you should, you showed a little nervousness as you tried to report your clients medical history and condition with your instructors and coordinators standing by, shooting questions at you with the sharp edges of an arrow that could maim a cow from a distance. And so today you resolve that tomorrow it wouldn’t be the same, you have to show them what stuff you’ve got. But somewhere near 11:30pm you slowly begin to drift into sleep, barely energy enough to do the dinner dishes. Some days you try, other days its goodnight until tomorrow. And when tomorrow comes, you already know how it goes. But I must confess, however, some days it’s not so bad waking up that early, with the thought of seeing the cute female intern on the MS ward again. The eye games and pleasant conversations we keep from a distance...in silence… hoping that someday, we just could bridge the gap.

2pm :
3/4 of the project is done, a slight feeling of freedom and pride starts to creep in. This would be a good time to do some house chores.
4pm: house chores finish, laundry washed, dishes cleaned. Lunch cooked. I feel good! Like like almost euphoric… but I still have to head to school to use the internet, upload my assignment and print off some pages.

8pm:
I feel euphoric, like I’ve been morphed into this coordinated and orderly gentleman. I got all of that huge pile of work out of the way, room feels fresh. Home cooked dinner never tasted so good.

10:30pm: sunday
So here I am, still writing. But I think I could enjoy the luxury of an early night tonight. Now I have to rest my fingers and hop on my bed. But first I need to take the last sip from my hot cup of surreal tea, and take the repeat off from owl city’s ocean eyes (They must be so tired of singing now)… Good night folks, thanks for staying with me today. I Promise to try to keep things orderly around here from now on (try I say)…catch you later!