Good Day....

Lately I've been miserable that I haven't been able to sit at home and do nothing (or even something!) all day in months. So today I did. It was loverly. I laid around and knit, watched Eddie Izzard, took a bath, and when I felt like going out for a drive, I did. *sigh* It was perfect. While out I received a call from my old friend, Rudy. It seems he has fallen in love. I've never heard him sound as he does now, I'm ever so glad for him. He deserves the best. I told him about my present situation with clingy, desperate people. I love Rudy because he knows me pretty damned well and offers a different perspective, one I miss now that we've grown apart. Rudy contributed to who I am today, I'm not sure how much. It's nice to have his input. As I drove I thought about life and who I've become since I knew Rudy before. I know what I want for myself and I know that I have to count on myself to get me there. The best thing about being alone is that no one has control of my life but me. No one can stop me from getting what I need out of life but me. Now if I can just save me from myself. :-P

I have a new dream... One day I want to open a yarn/knitting book store/cafe. Somewhere cold and grey, rainy, Seattle-ish. Or maybe somewhere close to my roots. Somewhere oceany. That'd work as well.

I have all these wants, needs, dreams. Some I feel like I can wait years and years for, others I want to be working towards right now. Where is this all going to take me, I wonder? Where am I going to wind up?

two maggots fighting in dead Ernest

I've been hit on a lot lately. There, I admitted it. I'm not sure where it's all coming from, but it is there, nonetheless. I have gone out with a couple of said suitors and have also been damn near stalked by another still. I've come to a conlcusion or two about the whole relationship/dating thing. As a single person who was once in the throes of love and a seemingly functional, very caring relationship, I have spent a lot of time wishing I had someone to care for and be cared for by. Maybe it sounds lame, maybe not. My bitchy hard ass exterior is admonishing me for admitting that, but it's true. Sometimes I get tired of dealing with everything alone, sometimes I get tired of being the only one to take care of me. So, I half assed sought a relationship. Now that I seem to have offers coming out of my ears, I find myself wishing once again for my independence. Weird, huh? When you're younger and someone persues you, you can generally assume that they're looking for fun, affection, status, sex, etc. etc. As I get older I am finding ever more people who are looking to find their life in someone else. They want to instantly attach themselves to every shred of my (or yours, whomever's, whatever...) being, my life. My theory is that these people are so unhappy, so ill at ease with themselves and their identities and their solitude that they seek to dissolve themselves as they become, well, me. To which in the words of my old pal and coworker Sarah Podolsky, I say "fuck that noise!" Mmmhmm. My even older friend Gregor Dahhlink has input as well, via IM:

Greg says:
you've got boys all over the place -- too bad they're idiots
Greg says:
ignoring them just leads to obsession, though, so don't do that
Julie says:
see, and I can't even ask you to advise me on the logistics of how to rid myself of them because you're not a stupid boy
Greg says:
no, I can't say I qualify for either "stupid" or "boy" these days
Greg says:get some Boy-o B Gone spray


Egads, where do I sign up for that?

Full Tank of Gas, Invisible Woman

How many of us feel invisible on a daily or almost daily basis? It's a lonely state. Feeling as though we've been seen by someone can be dangerous.

Full tank of gas, it was payday yesterday. I couldn't afford it but I got the front windows tinted on Victor, the Civic. While it was being tinted my mom picked me up and we went to breakfast, and then after it was done we drove it out for the inaugural drive to the beach. No car is really truly mine until it has been to the beach. I'm an ocean girl, what can I say? I need to go to the grocery store, but I haven't been able to really grocery shop in so long I'm not sure what I need. Weird. Maybe everything. Payday is the best and worst feeling in the world for me at this stage in my life. It means I can fill up the gas tank all the way and buy at least something of what I need. It also means that the next time I can count on that feeling is two long weeks away.

I have to go to Ukiah today and pick up a small check from FMC, yeehaw! I really don't much care for it up there, it's disorganized, Ukiah-ish, and has that icky, 1984-factory FMC feeling. Say what you like about Satellite, but I feel like they actually do give a damn. They aren't perfect, but I've worked for enough healthcare corporations to know they're different. Anywho, I worked up at FMC a few days and was so not into it. I've been kinda thinking it'd be swell to weasle out of said job, but was unsure how. After the "guess what? you're working in 12 hours" routine, I've been way more inclined in the direction of said weasling. The problem lies in dialysis, of course. Most problems do though, don't they? I think we can all agree on that. Or at least two of you, anyway. *wink* The problem is that the dialysis community is a small, close knit one. Everyone either knows or knows of everyone. Period. It's creepy. So if I tell FMC Ukiah to fuck off I'll likely wind up burning more bridges than I care to think of. I don't want to be in dialysis forever but burning bridges can never be a good thing. So after being reassured I "would always have a home with Satellite" by my manager (who is a whole other blog) and being counseled on how to weasle as gracefully as possible by my friends, I called FMC. Evidently the manager there didn't want to burn this bridge yet, either. It was anticlimactic as hell and I wound up leaving the option open for me to go work there when I want, and we're all as happy as possible. Well, I am. I don't think the hag I spoke with was, but whatever. Can't win 'em all.

I'm starvin' Marvin. I guess now would be the time to evaluate what I need from the store, no? That kinda depends though, I might be going camping tonight and that'll change everything. If so, it'd be the PipSqueak Pomo Fest 2005. Yayyyy! Pomo Fest 2005!

I have to say, little pequeno gato Fozzie is fabulously adorable. He really is. When he was a tiny kitten he had kinda fuzzy fur, but as he gets a little bigger his fur is getting sleek, shiny, and soft. And he has an oh so cute face. Yep, I'll keep him.


So here's what my weekend is shaping up to...I'm waiting to hear if Rachel wants to camp, then up to Uki to get a check, run a couple errands, try to avoid the yarn shop, then home before probably going to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with el Craig. Then I'll either stay home, do laundry, clean, and actually breathe a little or I'll hurriedly pack up Victor and race down to Pomo in search of a campsite and set it up while Rachel does what she needs to do and shows up when she can. Ohh I sooooo want Pomo Fest! ACK! Tomorrow I have tickets to The Man Who Came to Dinner, but I'm not sure who I want to go with. Hmmm. It's all fabulous and fun and wonderful. But you know? I need a day to stay home and do nothing. Maybe tuesday. A bientot!

blah

I'm about to give my dog Winston up. I've been thinking about it for months, worried because I'm home so little. Winston needs about a ton and a half of attention and companionship to be as happy as he deserves, and I just don't have it in my life for him at this point. It's hard because he's the dog I've always wanted, he loves me more than any other dog has and I love him more than any other dog as well. I really don't want to give him up but I have to do what's best for him. So today I asked my neighbor, the one I share my duplex with, if she and her husband would want him and they said yes. *sigh* So I'm gathering up his stuff and feeling miserable for him and I both. I worked so hard to be able to have him and I've worked really hard to take care of him, only to have to give him up. It sucks. It just does.

Wow!!!

According to the always behind counter on the dashboard for this blog I have 237 posts. That's pretty damned impressive, you know that? Who knows, maybe that smashingly high figure will get me blogging more frequently again. It miss it, I really do. It's just that I feel so uninspired lately. Hmm. I wonder why? I think the as yet unnamed censor is working overtime of late. Well hell. I'll do what I can.

My house smells funny. I'm making a weird tea, dunno what it is. It's actually just a few stems and leaves, but I haven't any idea from what plant. One of my American Indian patients brought it in for a coworker and I to help our insomnia. Renee tried it and said it worked well, so tonight is my night. I'm sleepy but stressed, so I'm using the tea as insurance. I'm stressed because I got a message on my machine tonight from the per diem boss up in Ukiah saying that I was to be at work at 6 in the morning on tuesday. So what we're looking at is that I was supposed to be there in about 5 hours. She called me twelve hours in advance and informed me. Well you know? She had my schedule from mid-day friday and the best she could do was 12 hours notice? And 6am? She knows I work nights. So I say, fuck that noise. She basically just called and said "just so you know, you're working at 6am tomorrow. " *click* Bitch. She wants to give me no notice and then not even give me a number to call in to? Well you know what she can do? She can lick me. Actually she can't, but whatever. You get the idea. So I called her and said "hmm, I'm sorry but I didn't hear from you and so I committed to another job for tomorrow!" I'll have to deal with the early shift problem later if she doesn't fire my ass. But whatever. I haven't committed to anything but Starbucks with Terry Bear and a check on my window tinting by California Shine, but it's the principle of the matter. And I cannot do 6am shifts after working the night before, I'd probably die. And tonight I didn't even get out 'til 1140. Me, out late. I don't even know the last time that happened. Night shift NEVER has to work late because we always handle our business early. We were down a person tonight and it was busy for some reason, so there ya go. Anyway, as you can see, I'm rationalizing the whole not going to my per diem job thing. Everyone agrees it was uncouth of Kristina (the clinical manager up at Ukiah) to do what she did and everyone agreed I should have done what I did. The fact of the matter is that I really don't want to work another job right now. One is exhausting enough, and school is starting in a few weeks. I need to find a way to make due with just the one job. *Sigh*

In blissful news I have what I have been waiting for for the past two years, the new Harry Potter. Yaaaaaay!!!!!!!!!! It was waiting for me when I got home today. Smashing.

Well, I dare say the tea seems to be working. My blogging quality has taken on the characteristics of blogs written while on sleeping pills. Cool.

I Hate Terrorists

Fuck terrorists. Fuck 'em. What a bunch of loathesome, vile, valueless trash. Anyone who takes their pathetic, invalid problems with the world out in acts of violence against innocent people is below all contempt. They cease to be worthy of respect and acknowledgment as human beings. And just what the fuck are they so goddamned angry about, I'd like to know? Poor London, how horrible. There is a special place in hell for the people that do things like this, I think.


So in other news....I've been promoted to Charge Nurse. Well, only when working with Jan. And not on paper, sadly there has been no salary increase associated. But for much of this week and for the next two shifts I'm on, I am CN la Julie, per Marisol. The very much abbreviated explanation with all gory details omitted is that our new traveler, Jan isn't into handling her business. Like, critical business. And someone needs to. Somehow, that person wound up being me. And you know? I've learned that I handle critical situations very well so far. And that's good. But it isn't worth the hell days I have endured every single shift with Jan. And it's going to suck tomorrow. Especially if she questions why Marisol wrote CN next to my name on the schedule, and again on Monday, and made Jun CN on Saturday when I'm not there. Hahaha! It's funy, but I kinda feel bad for her. Even if she is incompetent and not terribly bright, she's fairly nice. Well, whatever. It's going to suck tomorrow, it just is.

The World Revolves Around Skippy Peanut Butter

Well, not exactly, but whatever, it's the only food in the house I feel like eating. I managed to get home tonight without killing any animals. Yayyy! Last night I was so in need of someone to talk to and so I looked for my ex online. Surprise, she was there. Thank you, K, for being there in my hour of need. It was much appreciated.

So I have a new title at work. I am now Charge Nurse la Julie. La Julie because that's what Marisol calls me, and charge nurse because I have become one since Craig has left pm's in the care of Jan. Eeeeegads. I now handle scheduling, reporting to paramedics, dying patients, all of it. The only things I don't do are set my machines because Jan does that and I don't give meds and handle catheters because I'M NOT A FUCKING NURSE!!! Look, don't get me wrong, it's fun thinking of myself as a CN, but the fact is, I'm not qualified to handle this stuff at the moment. Jan, on the other hand has the piece of paper saying she is, but she's so not into handling her business you just can't imagine. I'm not sure what world she lives in but I can tell you now it isn't mine. I think I know part of the problem. I believe she accidentally got placed in the RN position but she actually applied to be a tech aide. Maybe?

The bad news? I have to work with her again this week and next until Craig returns. (YAYY CRAIG!!!)

The good news? It's now 8 days 'til Harry Potter!!!! My wonderful new car may not be paid for, but the new Harry Potter is! Yayyyy!!!! Life is good!

I Wish I Were Dead

I just hit a cat. It was on the freeway coming home from yet another hell day at work. I saw something flash blue or green up ahead, barely had time to register what it was, realize if I swerved I would hit the truck in the next lane at 70 mph, and know I couldn't avoid it. And then it happened. All within a second. It was awful. It happened so fast I wanted to tell myself it didn't happen, but it did. I felt this big, sickening thud when I hit it. God, it was the most horrible thing. I would rather hit a person than an animal. I hope to God it didn't suffer... I console myself thinking that as fast as I was going and as big of a thud as it was the kitty couldn't have survived long enough to suffer, right? Ohhhh...this is the second time this has happened to me, but the first time I was going like 30 and it was on Cloverdale Blvd. It was years ago in the middle of the night. Fucking stupid people letting their animals run free outside. I was traumatized for like 2 years after. Here we go again. And this, the second day I have my car. I feel so horrible, I want to call someone but all you people are sleeping, damn you! Godddd, I just want to cry/die/pop some valium!!!

*cries*

One Day Weekend

Well, maybe 1.5. I had Friday off and worked Saturday. So add in Sunday and I'll give it a 1.5 day total. Friday I began the process of the unthinkable, had a pseudo-job interview (just per diem) and consoled a broke friend, or those were the highlights anyway. The interview went well, I should be on the schedule at the downtown FMC by the end of the week I think. I have another for the north SR one and the Ukiah one on Wednesday with the awful Christina. EGADS! I can't wait to meet her, after what I've heard. It should be entertaining. *sings*blue his house with a blue little window and a blue corvette and everything is blue for him... Okay, sorry. So I have two reasons for acquiring a second and likely third job. What I'm doing is just not catching me up. At all. I try and try but to no avail. And overtime at Satellite is eaten up by lazy government officials. *sigh* So the second reason is an old one. Candy, my '92 Civic, is getting to be one problem after another. I could borrow a bunch of money, get her fixed, and wait for it to happen again. And again. Or I could pump my money into something with a warrantee. And so hence the stunning silver 2005 Civic coupe in my new driveway. His name is Victor. Or Vincent, something V, though. I think Victor. It came to me as all car names do, one hand on the dash.... Anywho, I got an offer for financing and told myself I couldn't do it. And then I drove to work in my falling apart Candy a few times. Friday I went in to Manly and got approved. The guy wanted me to sign then and there, and after the day long experience yesterday I wish I had. But I didn't want it to be totally impulsive so I went home, polled public opinion on what I should do (otherwise known as Marie, Craig, Jason, and of course my parents). I decided to go for it, but on Saturday the computers were down until after I went to work. So yesterday I went down and was told to expect maybe an hour to finish said deal. I'd like to see a source on that figure. I was there for nearly four hours. Mmmhmm. 4. Heehaw. It was lame-o. I developed a headache and a bad case of car-buying fatigue. Really, it's silly. All I did was sit around waiting for the people to handle their business and haggling them a bit, and I was just exhausted after!

Okay, I'm finishing this post after work and after I just hit a fucking cat. God...how awwwful. I don't want to do anything but cry and self-medicate but the end of this blog is basically this....I have a beautiful shiny brand new car. Which probably has cat blood on it now. *cries some more*