Internets, I again wake up way too late to shower and get to work on time. I don't want to go. (Although, granted, once I got there, yesterday was an okay day.) I think it's that I need a push out the door.
I am convinced (in a fantasy, googling information stage) that changing careers now would be a good thing--they need nurses, and nurses make more money. I got the paycheck with this year's increase and I have realized (again, for the umpteenth time) I will never be rich if I stay at my current job. I don't want to be rich, but comfortable, that might be nice. Having the say so that I can pay for a conference if the library won't. Oh, but I guess I wouldn't be going to conferences for librarians if I was a nurse. Crap. Why didn't I meet and marry a computer nerd in my twenties? (Oh, have I just dug a hole in which you dear reader will make me pay for in the comment box? I'll beg depression as an excuse...)
I finally told my mother that fixing my door would cost close to $500. That smells she says. (What?) "That sucks," she rewords, "and I never say that word." (It's true.) I'm not sure if I know a lawyer, but I want to. (The warranty that I bought won't cover this repair.) (The door broke two days after I bought the car.)
My first floor neighbor has returned. (the rest of this paragraph has been moved to an unpublished location for containing thoughts that belong in my journal.)
I'm going to be late. Now tell me why, in the fall, when taking a shower wasn't going to shock my system, I regularly while depressed didn't take one, but now, when I can tell it's REALLY cold outside, I insist on one, which will make me later?
I have started reading Praise Habit by David Crowder and let me tell you--he rocks. This could be the best Christian non-fiction I've read in AGES. He's so normal. (Whereas I'm still at the point where talking about my faith/writing about my faith sounds like sci-fi.)
Oh, and I gobbled Meg Cabot's Big Boned last night in one fell swoop. I couldn't have savored it over a few days? No, I had to read the whole thing. Crap. Now I just have books that other people have said are good. Do I really have to go to work?
And I want to GET THERE--it's the day of all my favorite co-workers. I just called and N, who is the sweetest lady I know answered, said, "Get here when you can" which I know if I was a nurse would probably never be the case.
Can I do a do-over? Seriously, can my alarm go off at 7:30 and I actually get up and take the shower I so badly desire but can't move off this chair to even get the warm water started?
GAH! This post may self destruct in eight hours, as you may have noticed quite a few of my posts lately have been doing.
1 week ago