Forever Ago

The lateness of the hour reminds me of when I used to do all-night blogs at my old office job when I worked the graveyard shift. I've traded to a computer room and Bon Iver playing softly in the background, unable to fall asleep because my sleep patterns are crap at the moment. So it's been a month since I've written? What should I cover? Perhaps snapshots will do:

Zara and I shouting out DAY-O to each other, born of a new love for Harry Belafonte.

Making friends at orientation, sadly accepting the fact that we'll be at different hospitals in a week's time and far away.

Donning my Tarleton Nursing hoodie for the last cold morning this Valley's winter has to offer, a whole 47 degrees.

Navigating myself around Harlingen, wondering why God sent me in this direction, but learning the roads all the same.

Filling out my RSVP for Aduma and Becky's wedding, wondering and fearing the people I'll come across in Denver in a few week's time.

Rocco vomiting milk all over my shirtfront in the middle of a crying jag. Sighing and hugging him close anyway so he can finally get some sleep at two in the morning.

Staring at myself in royal blue scrubs in the mirror and asking myself when nursing will feel real instead of fabrication.

Splitting a chocolate and pecan caramel apple with Ace and Nikki.

Agonizing on the phone with Christina before I finally remember and relax.

Having Sarah Jo and Becky both telling me it's okay to be unhappy with it, but urging me to move forward all the same.

Sleeping in until after two after three full days of actual work, leaving me awake now and considering there's still so much to go.

Time for bed, I think.

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Sent Out

I ended a full day by driving home at two in the morning, windows down so I could enjoy the bit of winter the Valley allows. Sixty-five degree wind never felt better and just as I got on the highway Love and Memories came on the radio and for a few minutes I felt a little amazing, never mind my hair flying in seventy mile an hour directions or the short distance home.

A day like this, for all its simplicity, doesn't normally have this kind of ending. I visited my father and his wife, played with my nephew Rocco - he who enjoys chewing on fistfuls of hair if it's not stinging to the touch - ate Chinese for dinner and babysat for two nieces, Amanda who cannot experience life without high pitched wails of discontent and Emily, who at only two months doesn't know the difference anyway.

I should have come home and found comfort in bed, fallen deeply asleep instantly once my head hit the pillow. My drive home didn't allow it. I came in suddenly ravished, I laughed at the delicious morbidity of finding a carton of eggs on top of a box of cold fried chicken in the fridge and then helped myself to a snack. Then I came here to let you know of such an extraordinary end to such an ordinary day.

If I ever figure out what this was all about, I'll let you know.

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