Musings of a Chicago-Born New Yorker

Posts tagged “night shift

I Live In NYC And It’s About Time I Started Acting Like It

I was thinking about my previous adventure day about a month and a half ago. Since that time, I really haven’t done much besides work and volunteer.

Because I love my job and I love my volunteer work, I don’t feel like I’m living some sort of hopeless life or anything. But since I decided I was going to Wine School, it occurred to me I’ve been missing out on a lot.

I mean, come on, I live in NYC. There are always cool and interesting things happening here that just don’t happen in other places. There’s so much going on and it is sometimes overwhelming, but if you can narrow your focus, you can find a whole world of possibility even in that narrow subject area.

I want more activities to engage in. I love good food and good drink (but I can’t afford the expensive stuff). I love going to museums and exhibits. And I love movies and live music.

Just from those narrow (ish) interests of mine, I can find a lot to do. I’ve got the Amazon local vouchers for rock climbing and kickboxing, which I swear I’m going to use really soon. I swear.

I went to a couple of restaurants for NYC Restaurant Week, so I got to try some food I wouldn’t be able to afford otherwise.

And since finally paying attention to all the amazing things I can find to do in the New York Times, there are a few upcoming events I really want to check out.

I’m going to try to go see the Whitney Biennial this weekend at the Whitney Museum of American Art. There is this photograph exhibit by this transgender couple I really want to check out. And also, this place just looks so cool, right?

Image via the Whitney Museum

And then there’s this group called BBQ Films that do popup movie screenings. Popup movie screenings is something I didn’t even know was a thing before New York. That definitely counts as one of those NYC things I’ve been missing out on that aren’t even activity options in other places.

Their last event involved renting out a place in Williambsurg that was like Shredder’s lair and hiring skateboarders and showing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Their next film showing is next weekend and they’re showing Back to the Future at a gymnasium in NoLIta setup like a fake prom. Check out their website for more information.

I think if I could pay more attention, I could probably find something fun like this to do every weekend. Especially now that Spring is about break for real. There will be more things like this every weekend. I’m still sad I missed the vegetarian food festival while I was in Chicago for that wedding, but no more!

I am deciding to fully embrace a narrow portion of what NYC has to offer.

He he. That sentence makes me laugh. But seriously, only a crazy person would try to embrace everything NYC has to offer. A crazy, rich, unemployed person who only needs to sleep 2 hours a night.

I fully accept that for now I’m leaving out sports, outdoors-y stuff, politics, boating, fashion, business, and education. So I’m leaving out a lot, but I’m hoping I’ll branch out organically as I dig more into the things I’m naturally interested in.

Now that I’m all set to get out of the winter doldrums, I’m finally going to embrace more of this city.

Oh, and one of the lovely people who I’ve met that I hope will become one of my NYC friends hit me up. She just got back in town from a vacation, so hopefully we’ll catch up and do drinks or lunch or something soon.

Someone remind me to take pictures so I’ll have visual aids to future blog posts.

More Thoughts On My Career Path

I wrote a post exactly six months ago with musings on my career path. I gave it some more thought and now I want to talk about what I’m feeling on the matter.

Some background:

I used to be in medical school, but I withdrew because I didn’t want to be a doctor. If you’ve only ever read this blog and not my old ones, just know that this is a story for another time that I will explain one day. After I left medical school, I had to get a job. I like the field of medicine and knew I still wanted to be involved but only tangentially.

I thought I’d be doing research, but instead I’m doing organ and tissue donation. And I really freaking love my job. The only reason I ever don’t want to come to work is if I haven’t gotten enough sleep. I like this job enough to consider making it into a career. When you turn away from being a doctor, finding a new career is a daunting task. But I think I may have found it on the first try.

In doing my research, I have found out several things. 1) I can work anywhere on the planet because everyone does donation. 2) I can always find new things to try because there are so many facets to donation. I just will never be a transplant nurse or surgeon. 3) Administration is the way to go. With a Master’s and/or PhD, the pay scale jumps almost to the mid 6 figures at the very top.

I’m still not 100% sure I want to make a career out of donation. But I could, I really really could.

If I could add to my job some face-to-face interactions with either donor families or recipients, that would be even better.

Let’s play a game. It’s called, “In a Perfect World.” Usually I play this game with another dreamer friend where we imagine what would be perfection in our entire lives. It’s usually based solely on our motivations right at the moment, but it’s useful to assess reality compared to hopes/dreams.

But for today, “In A Perfect World” will be career only. In my perfect career world, I will be making 6 figures after taxes and tithing. I will do paperwork and occasionally make presentations to my peers. I will interact with families who my services help. I won’t be in charge of the money. I’ll still get to do the day-to-day work of making donation happen. I’ll have a couple more degrees under my belt. And most importantly, I’ll still love my job. Oh! And I’ll have time for my family and friends in there too.

If you were in a perfect world, how would you describe your career?

Are There Any Parts Of Your Job You Hate?

In my continued effort to blog about random things, I turn to my job. I’ve had this job for little over a year and I really like it. Actually, I kind of love it. I’m surprised to say it because I never intended to have the job I do.

I work in organ and tissue donation. I can’t get into too many details, mostly because I would hate for a Google search to bring someone I work with to my blog. I have a potty mouth where ever I go, but still. I can say that a big part of my job is getting families to donate the tissue of their deceased love ones and finding recipients for organ donors.

There’s a lot of different areas I could get into should I make this my career. Right now, it’s hard to imagine doing anything else because I love what I do so much. It’s even hard to imagine what I don’t like about this job, but I’m gonna work real hard and try.

I don’t like all the policy changes. Every time I come to work, the policy on how we do some aspect of our job has changed. But they just send random e-mails about it. So you can imagine how many different ways different employees get the same task done.

I really don’t like all the meetings. There are training sessions, follow-up training sessions, and staff meetings for all the aspects of the job. Because I do more than one type of job, I’ve got to attend more than one type of staff meeting. There is nothing worse than having to have my butt at a meeting that lasts waay too long talking about things that could be covered with one of those random e-mails.

My job has also taught me things I do like. I love paperwork. Yup, paperwork. Filling out spreadsheets, compiling data, and completing checklists is totally my thing. It’s why I thought I’d like research, but I hate being in a laboratory. Looks like being in administration is in my future, cause I love putting together a data analysis report. I know, I know, I’m a weirdo. Or maybe some sort of nerd. Probably I’m both.

You know what else I like? Answering the phone. I would’ve been an AT&T switchboard operator instead of a maid if they hired black people back in the day. I can answer some phones with the best of them. I work nights and my supervisors marvels and how I always sound pleasant on the phone, even at 4:30 am on a busy night.

The only part of answering phones I hate is when other departments ask me to do their work for them. I know I would’ve been a telephone operator in another life, but I’m sure as hell not one in this life.

I will talk more about my career path in the next week or so with my biannual career path post.

Are there any parts of your job you hate? Please don’t get yourself fired answering my question.

A Crazy Call From The Police

No one wants to get a call from the police department at work. You think: “have I committed some felony and not realized it?” “Is someone dead?”

All sorts of things go through your mind. To ease your concern, this call was not about a felony or a death. A co-worker answered the phone and the police asked to speak with my father. Luckily, she recognized the last name and my maiden name and handed the phone call to me.

The police confirmed that the car in the parking lot was the one I drove to work and it was under my father’s name. Then they explained that a man called the police to say he had been driving while drinking and hit a car. He didn’t remember exactly when or where, just a general area, so the police took a look around the business park where my office building is located.

They saw my car and called to make sure that I was aware I may have had my car hit. I let them know the car had recently been in an accident and the damage on the back was likely from that. Side note: my father was driving when and got rear ended; I had nothing to do with the accident.

I went outside to confirm there was no new damage and moved on with my night. Then I thought about the situation some more. I was born and raised in Chicago. Police don’t go searching for car damage and then call people just to warn them just in case in Chicago. This is craziness.

It’s actually quite wonderful that the police in the area around my job are so diligent. It’s not so amazing when they set up alcohol check points and delay my staff on nights when I’m shift lead a half hour while out on break. But it is amazing in case there’s ever a crime committed.

One time, while at home, I called 911 to report gunfire outside my apartment building. The police barely took the information. They never came by to follow-up. And that was actual confirmed gunfire. Let’s just hope if a crime is committed against my car ever again, I’m at work and not at home, okay?

A Refreshing Story From A Girlfriend

Did you ever watch Sex and the City? If you did, you know Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda spent a lot of time analyzing the motives of the men they were involved with. They hemmed and hawed over mixed messages, stumbling and bumbling their way to their own happily ever afters.

Turns out that crap happens to real women too. And, at least for me, that shit goes on without the accompanying self-awareness needed to navigate the trenches. It wasn’t until a chat a work that I realized how taxing dating can be.

I’m not talking about double dating like my recent post. Double dating is stressful only because you’re juggling four schedules. No, I’m talking about ordinary, I’m-single-and-so-are-you-let’s-see-where-this-goes dating.

I catch up with my girls (i.e. basically my bridesmaids plus a couple others) and they tell me stories of their men. I’m the only who’s married, so there are always lots of stories. The big theme seems to be mixed messages.

There are the boyfriends who seem ready to propose never but love talking about marriage. There are the guys who are jealous at the thought of you spending time with another man, but they make it clear you are not their girlfriend. There are the guys who love talking about a life together and taking care of you but don’t have shit to offer besides love.

I don’t know how to get a boyfriend to propose because the husband proposed every damn week; I just said yes when he finally did it with a ring in hand. I make a point of telling men how to achieve exclusivity, and they all were informed that jealousy wasn’t the way. And since I fully intend to always have my own shit, demanding the man I’m with have ambition is a reasonable request. So I’m there more to listen rather than to offer advice because my girls all have such different personalities and motivations.

After listening to all that, I’d thought I’d heard it all. But then, at work, one of the chicks I chat with was giving me the latest update on the man she’s dating. He’s so honest and caring and really straightforward about what he wants and what timetable he’s on to get there.

I was so pleased during that conversation that I actually paused to figure out why. It was because there were no games. There was no one-foot-in-one-foot-out going on. He was just there. Both of them are the type of people who take things at a slower pace. They’re getting to know each other and their emotions and tendencies.

And he’s just… honest. She knows where she stands with him. She doesn’t have to hash it out and guess with her friends. She always knows because he makes it clear. Even with the tumultuous course of his past relationships, he’s still being a grown up and treating her with the respect she deserves. He’s not punishing her for shit other women have done.

He’s just being… him. And that’s so refreshing. So refreshing.

The Mystery of the Missing Contact Lens

I’ve got a story for you that starts in a strip club, and ends with haikus written in the emergency room.

The husband and I pride ourselves on not turing into some mutant married couple. At least not yet. Sure we break into song and dance and have ridiculous inside jokes, but we’ve been like that since the day we met, so it doesn’t count. But the things guys do with their friends, like go to strip clubs, stayed on the list of activities. We pat ourselves on the back for our behavior. Go us.

So the other night, the husband goes out with a couple of his boys to a strip club. The other participants shall remain nameless because some of their significant others think strip clubs only exist for bachelor parties and not random Friday nights out. But they were there and they were enjoying the show and having some drinks.

The husband decided to spend the night at his parents’ house in the suburbs rather than make the drive all the way back to the city to our apt. When he awoke the next morning, he noticed he only had one contact in his eye. Since he was drunk, he wasn’t sure what happened to the other contact. Undeterred, he cleans the still in place contact and puts in a new one on the naked eye and moves on with his day.

Later, while I’m at work that night, I get a call. It’s the husband. His eye is swollen. The eye that was missing a contact earlier. I immediately suspect, as you likely have by now, that he didn’t lose the other contact, it just moved out of place. Luckily, I was in medical school and his mother is a nurse practitioner. Between the two of us, we explain how he can work the contact down and out of his eye.

It doesn’t work. I told him to give it 2-3 hours and if he can’t get it out himself to go to the ER nearest to our house. His mother suggested an urgent care clinic would be quicker. So it’s either a long ass wait at the ER up street, or a long ass drive to the only 24 hr urgent care clinic we know of. With only one fully functioning eye, he heads to the ER.

The husband tell me that even though his eye is uncomfortable and he’s lost a huge chunk of his night, it was worth it. To have a great time out with his guys was worth it. I think part of it was dispelling myths that he’s married an unavailable for fun. His friends that know me are aware that’s not true, but guys just can’t believe it til they see it apparently.

After first falling asleep on the couch because he’s possibly narcoleptic the husband finally gets to the ER. After waiting for quite a while, the husband decides he will amuse himself. They tell him it’s a 2-3 hour wait, and he still doesn’t feel like driving out to the suburbs. In hindsight, he’s almost certain to regret this decision. I worry that someone about to deliver, or bleeding to death, or with an arm hanging off will jump in front of him in line. I share this worry with him.

But since he’s in the ER, what does he do to amuse himself? He starts texting me haikus to chronicle his experience at the ER. This is after a gunshot wound comes in, guaranteeing his time will be extended even further. I figured I’d share these with you because I found them hilarious. The husband is so creative!

Man enter the room / He is pacing back and forth / This person is weird

Grimacing in pain / He has not registered yet / The man walks around

He just spit on floor / Security yells at him / He still has not sat

He has disappeared / Girl who got shot just rolled in / She has not bled though

The girl is waiting / The girl says she saw no blood / Where she got shot at

I just switched my chair / Irritating that seat was / Because of the squeaks

I’m sure she is drunk / And has no clue what she says / That girl in the chair

The man has come back / In the emergency room / Finally sat down

Second man smelly / He is bothering my nose / Sitting behind me

First man is talking / Says his arm is killing him / He is hurting bad

Second man switched seats / The man who sat behind me / My nose feels better

Third man has come in / He screams out loudly in pain / I don’t want to look

His leg is broken / Or maybe his foot, can’t tell / He is also drunk

New person sits down / Tells me she has been here once / Waited 6 hours

I no longer feel / The the contact that is stuck / Was worth my good time

Everyone just sits / Waits for help that does not come / I am not happy

I had told the husband that it’s hard for me to feel sympathy for self-inflicted troubles. After all these haikus, I was feeling sympathetic, and I told him so.

This you say is true / I am having no fun here / In this hospital

Only few are left / There is not many people / Who came before me

First man left again / I think he went outside to smoke / With another man

I am so sad now / I realized I messed up / With the last haiku

Many syllables / I had eight in middle line / Instead of seven

I metion to my little haiku master that he must be sleepy. Honestly at this point, I’m surprised he’s even still awake, even in an uncomfortable waiting room chair.

Sleepy indeed yes / As I sit in this room here / Waiting for some help

Second man sleeps hard / Ear is touching shoulder blade / He is in dream world

Snoring he is not / But I am sure that his smell / Would wake a village

 I sit all alone / People here but we don’t talk / My eye feels much worse

He doesn’t text me for a while and I figure he’s fallen asleep. Or maybe even better, they’ve called him to the back Then the haikus resume.

First man is in gown / Asking if I have a light / I tell him no quick

It is almost 5 / I still have not heard my name / Everyone else is sleep

Second man was called / James Hunter is his real name / Should be stinky pot

I am still here / So I will talk in haiku / Until I am called

I have seen one show / And a movie since I came / Both were not that great

Guy who checkec me in / Said “almost dude” right to me / Hope has been restored

All I respond is ,”yay!”

Look waht you have done / A pregnant girl just rolled in / See what words can do?

I responded confused, all I said was yay!

Two girls just walk in / One girl is drunk and says she / Has to go to church

Pregnant, shot, shattered / One of each have come in here / You said that they would

All I think is Oops…

Third guy is next door / He snores like the alking dead / He yells out in pain

His leg is broken / Doctors seem apathetic / Third guy gets a splint

Drops are in my eye / No scratch on the cornea / Might be infected

At this point the haikus stop. I don’t get the whole story until I get home from work. They give him antibiotics for a periorbital infection. Somehow, there was a tear in the skin around his eye and it got infected at some point in the last 24 hours. His eye wasn’t infected, just the skin around it. He’ll be on antibiotic pills for 14 days.

I mentioned before that my friends and I like to spread rumors about each other only to each other for our own amusement. Terrible things you can only say to someone you’ve known for 20 years. With this whole story, of course I can come up with many terrible rumors to share with our friends about what happened to the husband’s eye. But I also want to share it with the 2.5 people who read my blog.

I think he was motorboating a stripper at that club, and she gave him some sort of eye infection. Could be pink eye, herpes, who knows? And as to that contact, I think it’s lodged somewhere is the sequins of a large-breasted stripper’s bra. Did I mention that the rumors my friends and I make up are just horrible? Well… they are.

What do you think happened to the husband’s contact lens?

Climbing Up The Ladder At Work

There have been some changes going on at work recently. I’m not about to air our office gossip and drama on the internet, so I will skip to the important facts that pertain to me.

My main job duties include placing kidneys and the pancreas in organ donation cases. Only some of our office staff is trained to do this work. The kidney placer with the most seniority on each shift is the shift lead. Because of some moves around the office with other people’s training and switching to different shifts (and a lof of drama in between), I’m about to become a senior placer and a shift lead on most of my shifts.

I’ve only been working at this job since May 2011, but things have really worked out in my favor. Because of how quickly I trained, along with some office politics and drama, I’ve been left standing as the obvious choice to keep moving up.

With thoughts of moving to New York City in my mind I took a look at the open positions at the NYC counterpart of my office. The job that most appealed to me required some leadership experience in the field. The ambitious side of me started thinking.

I figured that if we do stay in Chicago for another year, the leadership experience of being a shift lead for over a year would definitely count toward me being qualified for that better position. I don’t know if the position would even be open this time next year, but it’s a possibility.

Non-profits have a pretty high turnover rate. If I have this job for 2 years and then only leave because my husband got into grad school in another state, they’ll know I have job loyalty and will be setting up shop for at least another 2 years. That’s a good investment for them.

I feel so blessed to have been trained so quickly, and to have stayed out of the work drama. When this opportunity came up, I was an obvious and agreeable choice for it. The other people who aren’t yet trained may be done training by March, but the shift lead position is mine.

Even if we do end up moving to New York this summer, I still will be glad for the opportunity to grow and learn more. If I make a career out of donation, I want every chance I can grab hold of to gain more experience.

I gotta say, it feels amazing to be a in position where it feels like no matter what move I make, I can’t go wrong.

Getting Access To Your Records

After watching far too many episodes of Leverage, and through the course of my job, I’ve realized something.

If someone wanted access to your records, it’d be pretty easy to get.

People call in to my job asking about people’s donor status, test results, surgical history, etc. If their call seems to be from one of our partner agencies, they get the information. We don’t confirm identities or anything. We just take people’s word for it.

Everything is recorded and verified. Eventually verified. It’s that “eventually” part that worried me.

It kind of freaks me out to know how easy a person’s information can be accessed. We bypass HIPAA or rather have an exception to HIPAA that allows us access to everyone’s information. By proxy, so do our partner agencies.

All the stuff that we figure is kept safe in our doctor’s files is open for the world to see. Now if you have no crazy stuff going on, you’re fine. Also, most of the time we access someone’s records, they’re dead or about to be dead. And it you’re dead, are you concerned about your records anymore? No, you’re not.

There is the occasional patient who gets called into us because they’re on a ventilator. We get all their information and share it with our partner agencies. But then they don’t die and all they’re stuff is out there.

No one at my office is selling medical histories on the black market, or whereever you’d sell that kind of stuff. We take our jobs very seriously. As far as I know, there’s never been a breach of confidentiality. Considering that we get hundreds of calls every single day (lots o’ people die in Illinois), that’s a very big success rate.

This is mostly because of my too many episodes of Leverage. but let’s say someone wanted to access a recently deceased person’s records for nefarious purposes. I’m not going to say what they’d do to get it ( *cough* fake being an employee of another agency *cough*), but most of our business is conducted by phone and fax. Hardison and Parker would have all our shit in like 10 min flat.

But enough worrying… your records are fine… Probably…

I apologize because I did write this at like 5:00 am, when really sleepy at work. I get like this. And I watch too much TV.

Some Thoughts On My Career Path

Back when I was in medical school (I will eventually write a post explaining that situation to my newer readers), I lamented the fact that the next 30 years of my career were basically planned out for me. I envied my friend who were getting Master’s Degrees and working for non-profits.

Now that I am planning on getting a Master’s Degree and am working for a non-profit, I rejoice in the open-ended opportunities I can make for myself. So far, the grass is indeed greener.

Right now I work in organ and tissue donation. I love it so much. The part about actually helping people and saving lives with tangible results was missing for me in med school. At work, I get to do it every day. Every single day I work, I have proof of someone’s life who was saved on enhanced.

So far, I even personally know one person who’s life was saved through organ donation. That was a moment in my life I will always cherish.

The exact work I do from day to day is not something I can maintain for years to come. Working 12 hour shifts is no good for my sleep needs, spending time with my man, maintaining a relationship with friends and family, and general sedentary behavior I’d like to avoid.

The question is how do I keep up with the joy of my work, but with better working alternatives? It’s something I’ll be thinking about over the next few years.

For now, I intend to stay in the same type of job. All the lateral moves within my company are to jobs with even worse hours and work I really wouldn’t want to do.  I’m only 7 months in at this point and so I”m too new to think about advancement.

Do I want to move into administration? Yes, eventually. I’m planning on getting my Master’s in Healthcare Administration. Even though I’d be doing more paperwork than actual life saving, I know I’ll be okay with that. I love making charts and crunching statistics. Filling out paperwork is something I actually enjoy (I know, I’m weird). Plus, I’m too ambitious to not eventually end up in a position of power.

Do I want to move to the private sector? Probably yes. I know that the fiancé and I want a relatively large family, and he really wants to make a career of his music. We’ve agreed he will do this even if he never gets big enough to command the payment for gigs that would match his current annual salary. So finances is a consideration. I want a pay ceiling that’s very very high and the private sector has a higher ceiling than non-profits.

Do I want to stay in organ and tissue donation? Still undecided. I love what I do, but I was so uninformed about this whole world before I got this job. I’d have to explore it some more and see what related fields have to offer before I’d make that decision.

One thing that makes me happy is that I can do this job anywhere. They have organ and tissue donation all over the globe. The process is pretty similar all over. I’ve got great training and can do this job, so I can travel with the fiancé and still be employable wherever we end up. At least, that’s the idea.

I don’t know how much time I need to sort this out, but I think I”ll revisit this topic in six months to see how I feel then.

“I Know Who I Am”

After many months of procrastinating, the fiancé finally called Comcast and got us some internet. We debated whether or not we were going to get cable as well, but ultimately decided against it. I really wanted a land line, so we got that too.

The day the Comcast guy comes to set up the internet and phone line was a morning after I had to work. I have the only laptop between the two of us which is the only computer in the apartment. They needed me to get home from work so the internet could be properly set up.

There was only one problem. I got a flat tire three blocks from my job, which is 30 miles from my apartment. When I called the fiancé, he didn’t answer the phone. I can change my own tire, but it was freezing cold and the tire jack broke. So I called my daddy who came to the rescue.

Turns out, the fiancé dropped his phone in the toilet. I wrote a post back in mid December that had this quote:

I feel I should take the moment to say, “baby, I’m not buying you a iPhone. Buy your own damn iPhone.”

I now feel very wise. Had I purchased a new iPhone to replace the one he’d broken three different ways, that one would also be ruined be being dropped into a toilet. A toilet he had to have been peeing it at the time it dropped in. I’m just saying, I would be feeling some kind of way if he accidentally peed on my Christmas gift.

He could still accidentally pee on my Christmas gift now that I think about it. Baby, please don’t use the gift I bought you near the toilet!

So back to what I was talking about before. I was late getting home because it took an hour to get my tire changed. When I got there, I handed them the laptop and got in the bed. When I awoke several hours later, the computer was hooked up to an ethernet cord and the phone was coming out from behind the living room TV. After having a WTF moment about the ethernet cord, I turned my attention on the phone.

I was so confused as to why the phone was behind the TV. The fiancé said the Comcast guy had no choice because that was the only phone jack. For him and anyone else who may not know, buildings are not built with all the phone jacks they’ll ever have. Especially not buildings that were built before there were phones in every home. They can add new phone jacks on other walls.

Also, Comcast is mailing us a wireless router so we don’t have to have the laptop tethered to the wall like it’s 1999. Side note: doesn’t that Prince song take on totally new meaning now that it’s 13 years past 1999?

The fiancé doesn’t mind the phone being behind the tv because it’s a very bright pink color. He said he’d rather replace it with some old phone from his parents’ house. I told him there was no need for that because I had a cordless phone with caller ID and an answering machine we could replace it with.

Well, I didn’t tell him that at first. First, I ridiculed him for being against the phone simply because it’s pink. That’s a little too “I’m-6-year-old-and-girls-are-stupid” for my tastes. But then the fiancé realized he was a grown man and said, “I know who I am. It’s fine if we have a pink phone.”

I chuckled at him for needing to remind himself that he was a man and therefore need not be threatened by a pink phone. Then I finally told him about the cordless phone, which happened to be black and grey. I also told him that this day would turn into a blog post because it made quite a ridiculous story.

Also, it just occurred to me that I didn’t ever say what I actually got the fiancé for Christmas. Just know that it was electrical, useful for his career, portable, in a manly color of dark grey, and able to be ruined by being peed on. Please don’t pee on my gift!


A Review of My Holidays

With all the posts I wrote about the holidays I wrote in the days leading up the the holidays, it only makes sense that I would write a post now that that the holidays are past. Well, they were pretty great.

The whole great slight altruistic idea I had would’ve been great, if only we had more time to make it happen. When December 22nd rolled around and we realized we’d never made moves to get anyone gifts, we let go of an idea that we didn’t have time for anymore.

We set a time to go shopping on Christmas Eve. I feel like hesitant, reckless, or bad drivers shouldn’t be out in the streets when there are so many people around. The fiancé falls into one of those categories. I won’t say which one. But there we were, and we managed to get all our shopping done in just over 3 hours because we rock.

We went to my parents’ house to wrap gifts and hang out a bit. Of course, they had gifts for me to wrap. My daddy made the fiancé some sort of drink that knocked him on his ass. Suffice it to say, it was a while before we headed to his parents’ house.

We got there at just the right time though, shortly before his mother arrived. Once our nieces got into their pajamas, we gathered his family so they could open their gifts. We would be at my parents’ on Christmas Day, and I wanted to get pics of them opening their gifts.

We fell asleep, as we’re apt to do, and we ended up finally back at the apartment by 3 am. We woke up only 3 hrs later so we could exchange gifts and still get ready to be at church by 8 am. The fiancé bought be lovely gifts. He got me two new charms for my charm bracelet. He first bought me the bracelet for Christmas last year. He’s been filling it up slowly but surely. He also got me 2 seasons of Leverage on DVD. Such an enabler, lol.

We went to church and then to my parents’ house. I slept a lot at my parents’ house, and then woke up so the fiancé could drive me to work. They made me a plate of the dinner I’d missed and I enjoyed that at work. Three words: Sweet potato cheesecake. It’s a real thing. It’s really delicious and it’s my new favorite.

For New Year’s Eve, we went out with the couple who’s wedding we met at. We went to Quartino’s, which is where we spent Valentine’s Day last year. We brought in the new year with a prosecco toast (the Italian’s answer to champagne). It was a lot of fun. In order to spend less at the restaurant, we had drinks and hot wings with my special sauce before hand at our apartment.

We were gonna go dancing after, but we couldn’t find parking, and the more demanding half of each of the couples, which may or may not have included me, just wanted to go home. We went back to the apartment and chatted for a bit. The husband of the couple we were with insisted on trying to play with our cat Belle. Fifteen frustrated minutes later, he finally believed me when I said she’s not like other cats.

On New Year’s Day, we went to my parents’ house. We normally have a pretty amazing seafood etc. feast that day, but mostly it’s a lowkey event. Not this year. We had all our close family who lives in town. Two sets of family friends (who are from the same family), the fiancé’s family, and a friend of my brother’s. There were 22 people there in total, which is a lot for one of my family’s gatherings.

The menu was amazing. The sweet potato cheesecake reappeared, along with crab legs as large as your arm, gumbo, german chocolate cake, lobster tails, fettucine alfredo, jumbo shrimp, black eyed peas, and much much more. The best part is that there was enough for everyone. That’s right, that means more than 20 lobster tails. We were all laid out half sleep after eating.

When we finally got around to dessert, we were barely able to make room. I was so happy I didn’t have to work, so I really got to just relax and enjoy the time with my families. How was your holidays?

I Think I Watch Too Much TV

As evidenced by the post I wrote on Christmas Eve, I watch a lot of TV. In the days between Christmas and New Year’s, I think I watched even more than usual. With almost all the shows on holiday hiatus, the fiancé took care of my TV fix by buying me two seasons of Leverage as one of my Christmas gifts.

We’ve been holed up in the house watching episodes. You get hooked on each plotline. How each new person adds to the team’s identity and how each case fits in with the season’s arc. And then you start to see similarities between the show and your life.

Oh wait, is that just me? Yeah, I think I’ve officially watched too many episodes of Leverage in a row.

I was a work and a man I’ve never seen before happened to be in one of the kitchenette areas where I go to get water. He’s steeping his tea and looking very into it. He looks pretty unassuming. Nice smile, slightly askew glasses, even has an ID badge prominently displayed proving he works here.

But I do work at night. There’s a finite number of people that come through here during evening hours and this man just didn’t look familiar. He strikes up a conversation asking about some information that’s pretty crucial to the entire company and our bonus payments in the new year.

Without going into too much detail, based on the way I was dressed, anyone in the building would know that I’d be in the know about specific cases. I had the answer to his questions. And before I even knew what I was doing, I answered his questions. In detail.

I felt like calling the fiancé immediately to tell him what happened. With each episode we watched, he was confused as to how the team could gather so much information from and about their marks. Why would people just volunteer the info? Well apparently, all you need is an employee badge and an unassuming smile, and you’re in.

I’m not saying that guy is a con man who gathered intel from me to bring down someone in my company. I’m not saying he was there, ready to pounce on his prey an extract all he needed to make the job go down.

Nah, I’m just saying I watch too much TV.

Worried About My Christmas

So, I re-read my post from about a week ago about fights. The fiancé and I seem to be increasingly better at working through issues that come up. But there’s one problem that hasn’t been settled yet that really worries me.

It worries me because Christmas is right around the corner and I’m worried he’s going to ruin it. And if not Christmas, he’ll be ruining New Year’s Eve. You see, the fiancé doesn’t love holidays like I do. In fact, last year I was convinced he hated Christmas. I’m sort of convinced now that I was mistaken. Sort of.

I’m worried he’ll ruin one of these ever-so-important holidays because when it comes time for big things, he tends to mess them up and then make up for it later. I had to have a birthday re-do in October. Our Thanksgiving was 4 hours behind last month. We missed my great-aunt’s funeral last week.

It seems like every month, something I’m depending on him for goes horribly awry. I feel like I have only two options:

1) Stop depending on him and risk losing that faith in our relationship that we can rely on each other.

2) Expect that he’ll disappoint me and resign myself to that fact.

Perhaps I’d feel better if he were one of those guys who just didn’t care and never pretended that he could or would do better. But the fiancé isn’t like that. He says he cares all the time, he just constantly does careless things.

I know he didn’t mean to make me miss my great aunt’s funeral, but that doesn’t make me feel better. And I know he doesn’t care as much about Thanksgiving as I do, so being four hours late didn’t bother him, but that doesn’t make me feel worse.

I’m just worried about how he will ruin Christmas. I know it won’t be on purpose, but there are a number of ways it can go wrong.

1) I work nights and I have to work Christmas night. I care way more about Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so this isn’t so terrible. But if we get a late start on our day, which is very very possible, that will throw off my whole schedule and ruin my day.

2) He took a gig on Christmas Eve. I knew when I decided to marry a musician there were certain sacrifices I’d have to make. He spent last Christmas in Europe on tour, so I want to be with him. I just don’t want to be with him on a gig. In Indiana. On Christmas Eve. But that is my life now as a professional groupie, I guess.

3) He will suggest some sort of house hopping like what we did on Thanksgiving. That was fun, but with me having to work that night, it could be a total disaster.

Christmas is usually my favorite time of year. That just hasn’t been the case since I’ve been with the fiancé. I’m trying to reconcile that. It’s just hard because it’s been this fear of mine that I would end up with someone who undervalues birthdays and holidays. And it happened.

I just need to figure out how to adjust. It’s not fair of me to put all my expectations on him. I’ll be constantly disappointed, and he’ll feel like I’m putting too much on him. It’s just so frustrating!

I Love My Job, I Love My Job, I Love My Job

I have to repeat that to myself sometimes. I really do enjoy my job most days. I save and enhance lives through organ and tissue donation. I’ve drunk the company kool-aid. I’ve even added more sugar and a splash of vodka to help others enjoy it more. But sometimes it’s easy to forget.

1) Asshole doctors. I understand that everyone doesn’t support donation. But as dispassionate as most doctors I’ve met are, how the hell do you pick your one time to be passionate as when it comes to keeping your patients from even considering saving someone else’s life after theirs is over? Seriously, WTF?!

2) Working nights. I’m a night owl by nature. But having to live my work life during the night (and I don’t even get tips or get to wear ridiculously high heels) and my personal life during the day is taking it’s toll. I’m sleepy most of the time and unless I have 3+ days off in a row, I feel off. That means I have more days of feeling off than on. I wish there was something I could do about that.

3) I miss the fiancé. We’re both looking forward to these next two weeks he has off. No matter what day of the week I work, I’ll see him when I get home from work. We’ll be able to spend much more time together. Well, that depends on what time his gigs are, but it will still be more than it is now.

When I work three days in a row during weekdays, I don’t see the fiancé for 2-3 days. That sucks so much. I don’ t think I’ll ever get used to it. It’s just a fact of life. We make the most of our time together. Trying to make sure no parts of our relationship fall by the wayside has been quite the task.

The physical aspect just gets in where it fits in. We both love love sleep, but we’ll sacrifice it if we have to. The spiritual aspect sees us church hopping between his church and mine on my weekends off and praying each morning over the phone while I’m driving home from work. We talk on the phone as if we’re in high school, but we’re maintaining our communication and friendship.

I’m not sure I can pinpoint what we do to nurture our emotional relationship. He pays more attention to emotions than I do, but if we’re not doing anything, we’ve got to work on that. We’re far too young as a couple (we just met July 2, 2010) to settle into a rut this soon.

So for now, I’m trying to maintain building my relationship and career. And I’m telling myself, “I love my job, I love my job. I love my job.”

Getting Out Of The Shower Unscathed

Last Saturday was my bridal shower. One of 438 pre-wedding parties organized for my wedding. The fiancé and I were painfully late to our engagement party, so I wanted to be on time. In an effort to make that happen, we got a hotel room nearby my job since I had to work Friday night.

The plan was for the fiancé to pick me up from work at 7:30 am, drive right back to the hotel up the street, and get right into bed to get a couple hours of sleep before getting up at 10:30 to get ready to head to the shower I was supposed to be at by 11:30. Yeah, that didn’t happen.

We didn’t go right to sleep. The mornings is one of the only times we really get to spend together consistently. He’s a narcolept at night and I’m only awake in the morning when I haven’t been to sleep yet, so it’s the perfect storm for us to chat etc. I ended up with about 1 hr and 40 min of sleep. And then we were dragging ass when we finally got up to shower.

Long story short, I got to the shower right around 12:30 pm. For shame. And just like my engagement party, I walked into a room full of people staring expectantly at me. I’m going to have to start being on time for things or I will develop a complex and not be able to get down the aisle on my wedding day. I don’t mind being the center of attention, but not when the expectations are that palpable. It’s unnerving.

The shower’s theme was cute and creative. The guests (there were around 50) were split into 7 groups representing different times. The invitations, decorations, and gifts were all supposed to coordinate with the theme. I’ve got a ton of pictures, but I won’t bore you with them. The times were: Breakfast Time, Lunch Time, Dinner Time, Cocktail Time, Bath Time, Exercise Time, Bedtime.

The idea was for the women to get creative with the gifts so I would get a variety that would cover all the times. I do love to cook and eat, so the three meal times made sense. I’m getting married so bath time and bedtime are obvious. And no week is complete without a nice cocktail hour. But the gifts were… less than creative.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved almost all my gifts. They just didn’t fit their themes.

Apparently, I should be wearing lingerie as I cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Also while in the bath. And at bedtime and during exercise, I should have the least comfortable lingerie of them all. Maybe I’d have been married sooner had I known that!

With the exception of my mother, it seems the closer the family members got in terms of the family tree, the raunchier and more blush-inducing the gifts were. Here are some of my favorites:

1) The lace-waistband pearl G-string. It was a gift from one of my church members, I won’t say which one. As soon as I pulled it out of the bag, I knew what it was and fondly recalled a hilarious episode of Sex and the City. I learned a lot about the guests at the shower based on who knew what it was the way I was holding it and who needed me to completely open it up to figure out what it was.

2) The edible everything. Bra, g-string, c*@k ring, and various anatomy-shaped suckers. It was a gift from my aunt and cousin. I didn’t even know they made edible– you know what, never mind. I wouldn’t even show everything in that bag to the whole room. I just showed the edible bra and g-string, and called it “edible bra & panties”. Somehow, that felt better.

3) A leopard print bag that housed a garter belt, garters, stockings, and a very skimpy, very sexy, very lacy set of lingerie. It was a gift from the fiancé’s sisters. I almost don’t want him to know what they bought cause I figured it might freak him out.

4) My mom’s gift was the best. She got me a gift for each time of the theme, and no lingerie. I’ve got enough to last for years, so I didn’t need anymore. But she got me a gag gift. She wrote a poem that covered each time. When it got to cocktail hour, the poem implied she’d bought me a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes (“a pair of red bottoms”), but it was just a Christmas ornament. It was a great gag gift and got a laugh from everyone there.

This shower had good food, good drinks, laughter, dancing, awesome gifts for me (and for everyone else too between game prizes, time gifts, and door prizes), and merriment galore.

There are still a bajillion more pre-wedding events to go, but at least that’s one more that’s behind us.

Long Term Borrowing

I know what some of you are thinking. You took one look at that title and figure I’m going to talk about grown-up stuff an engaged person such as myself might discuss. Possibly a mortgage, possibly student loans, possibly one last cash infusion from the parents (other than the wedding of course).

You’d be wrong. I’m talking about taking something that’s not yours with the intention of giving it back… eventually. The fiancé brought me dinner to work about a week and a half ago. He brought me food from a restaurant at a hotel we had for the night. It was the night before my bridal shower and it just made sense to sleep nearby for a few hours before heading to my shower. It maximized the time I’d have to sleep. And this hotel’s restaurant supposedly had really good food.

I requested a salad, salmon, and a drink. This drink was from their non-alcohol menu, so I didn’t worry about ordering it during a work shift. When the fiancé brought me the food, he handed me a bag with two styrofoam to-go containers in it. Then he reaches in the backseat and pulls out–

This glass definitely screams, "I had alcohol in me".

a glass. Not a styrofoam to-go cup. An actual glass that I’m sure the hotel never intended to leave the premises. Since he didn’t help with the registry besides picking our fancy china (the most important part!), he doens’t have any idea how much glasses cost these days.

But apparently I’m the Bonnie to his Clyde because I took that glass, only threw him one judgemental look, and happily took it back into the office to enjoy with my dinner. Of course my co-workers were confused as to where I just got a glass that was full of some sort of fruity drink.

That picture above is of the actual glass that I took with my Blackberry while writing this post. That hotel where we’re staying is pretty nice. It’s the perfect place to get away for a weekend, so I imagine we’ll be going back there at some point when I don’t have to work.

So eventually, we’ll take the glass back. Probably…

Men Who Don’t Stand A Chance

The fiancé and I were recently discussing people we used to date. Quite frankly, everyone says that’s something better left un-discussed. But we overshare, and we do what we want. It helps that in each of our eyes, our current partner far outweighs all the merits of anyone we’ve ever dated. So, we talk. One thing that we haven’t discussed much though is new people who pop up.

The fiancé meets more people than I do on a regular basis. He’s a teacher and a musician, and I talk on the phone all day. If someone is going to get fuck-me eyes, it’s going to be him, not me. But I forget that occasionally I do meet people who are in my life for about 2 min tops and yet leave a lasting impression. Remember the post about the police officer?

His lasting impression lasted long enough for a blog post and a laugh with the fiancé. But there have been others. These other men I meet are at work. There are a couple co-workers who give me the eye, but they’re not worth mentioning. What is worth mentioning are these ridiculous delivery guys. I know what you’re thinking. My late-night Chinese food delivery guy is hitting on me. Well, you’d be wrong.

The men who come to pick up organs and tissues that we ship all over the country for transplant and research are the ones hitting on me. I don’t know if it’s my naturally friendly smile, pretty face, or the fact that it’s late as hell at night when we cross paths, but these men are a trip. They flirt with no shame, with their smiles growing ever bigger regardless of how I respond to them.

There was “Nah, You’re Not Black” Guy. He was some sort of Middle Eastern man. I couldn’t place the accent. He told me I was very beautiful and asked for my phone number. I told him I was engaged and he told me that didn’t make me definitely off the market yet. He made a comment about “our” culture, and I told him I was black. I could’ve sworn the dreadlocks would give it away. When I wore my hair straightened, it was a mistake Arab men often made with me, but now? Seriously? His response was to give me a compliment that I didn’t look black, so at least I had that going for me. WTF?!

There was also “You’re So Sparkly and Shiny” Guy. This was a nice-looking white man in his late 40s I would guess. Looked like he could have had a daughter around my age. I was wearing a sparkly top and a headset (because I answer phone and make a lot of phone calls on my job). He watched me walk up to him with this growing smile on his face. Once I was in earshot, he said, “wow you look like Brittany Spears with that shirt and headset.” Maybe his daughter was years older than me and not living with him in years. Maybe that’s why he didn’t know that’s not a compliment to tell someone they remind you of pre-freak out Britney Spears. I don’t know if he expected me to start dancing with a snake, but I was glad to see him go.

Then there was “I Like To Watch You Breathe” Guy. When he arrived to get his package, there were several ready to go out. We weren’t sure which one was his because he had no identifying info for the package. He didn’t know where it was going or what tissue type it was. So while he called dispatch to figure it out, he stood there and stared at me. For four full minutes. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a stranger stare at you for four full minutes. But it’s quite awkward. I tried to look away or inspect the packages as if they held the answer to some mystery. But it was just… creepy.

Every couple of shifts (darn night shift), I run across one of these types of men. They seem mostly harmless, looking to encourage any friendly face they’re lucky to see in their line of work. But they are still woefully uninformed for how to talk to a nice stranger they find attractive.

The good news is I got a good blog post out of it. And who knows, this may become a series of blogs if these guys keep it up.

Gotta Get Gooder at Groceries

Yes, I said “gooder”. I picked alliteration over correct grammar, deal with it. But seriously, I really do need to get better at groceries. I don’t have time to shop as it is, so I get most of my groceries from That’s pretty foolproof , at least it should be for someone who does as much online shopping as I do.

Online shopping isn’t the problem, it’s the other end of it. The delivery end. I ordered food and set it for delivery on a morning as I was getting off work. But I got off work late and was rushing home as a text message told me my stop was next.

I crossed my fingers that the text was premature, but it wasn’t. The dispatch guy called my cell phone to ask why I wasn’t home and when I said I was only three blocks away (more like 13), the delivery guy said he’d wait. I pulled up and noticed my block happened to be the only one in a mile radius that was being rained on and profusely apologized to the man who had so much food (I order big!) piled up outside my apartment building.

I let him in and he brought a couple hundred dollars worth of food up to my third floor apartment. I signed my bill and began unpacking my groceries. I learned a lot about myself that morning.

1. I’ve learned the ability to profusely apologize for something that’s not my fault. Took me 100 min to drive 30 miles and it wasn’t my fault, yet I profusely apologized to the Peapod guy who had been waiting 5 min for me.

2. I’m still the girl who cries over spilled milk. I did it all the time as a clumsy child. It used to drive my father crazy. Apparently, when alone in my apartment, I will still cry if that milk is an expensive ass glass bottle of Oberweis milk. That’s $1.50 I will never get back. That’s not the cost for the milk, it’s the cost for the glass bottle tax that they return when you bring the bottle back to a store. 

3. Food in general and caramel apples in specific will make me feel better. I’m not generally an emotional eater. Stress usually makes my appetite go poof. But that morning, a caramel apple with nuts really improved my mood.

4. Screw swiffer, I need a real mop. I’ve got the bucket, but no mop. Trying to clean up a gallon of milk with paper towels and swiffer wet/dry cloths is super wasteful. I would’ve used a real towel, but I didn’t want my house to smell like sour milk until the next time we washed.  Which I can now confirm would have happened because it’s been two weeks and still no laundry.

5. I will rush to write out a blog post rather than call a friend to hear my sob story. Not sure if that makes me a better friend than I used to be or just an internet addict. Even though this happened a while ago, I wrote most of it in an e-mail to myself and only had to fill in a bit.

On a brighter note, if I am truly an internet addict, I can put my addiction to good use. My friend is starting an etiquette class (long story), and I’ve offered to help. And since we have the same background, blogging seems to be the one area she could actually use my help. But that’s another blog post for another time.

Why Don’t I Talk About Politics At Work?

Aside from the occasional discussion of why Sarah Palin is still on the national stage, politics never really comes up at my work place. This is a non-profit. I imagine if there are civically active people anywhere, they’re here. But yet, not much discussion.

And now I know why. It’s because we have wildly divergent views. With the racial, ethnic, and age diversity going on here, It makes sense that we would assume we’re different and keep hot-button opinions to ourselves.

A co-worker of mine was just on the phone right now extolling the virtues of Herman Cain. She said she liked him until he announced his 9-9-9 plan. If you live under a rock and don’t know what I’m talking about, shame on you. The short version is that the plan sucks and is a great way to raise taxes on the very poor while lowering it for the very rich. It also involves a national sales tax. No more crossing state lines to purchase cheaper clothes, gas, or alcohol.

This woman has a loud voice and so I could hear most of her side of the conversation. She was right to be against that plan, and it sparked up a conversation where she and I explained it to the rest of our co-workers. Then she branched out into talking about how she doesn’t understand why the current government wants to spend their way out of a recession. And that’s where I was done.

I’m not at all interested in sharing my opinions on that matter. We can talk about the things we agree on, but the things we strongly disagree on, no way! I don’t have the background to explain to her why injecting money into the economy is the only thing that kept us out of a depression. I could send her some articles Paul Krugman wrote for the New York Times, but I imagine that wouldn’t make the intended point.

I didn’t even say, “let’s agree to disagree.” I just nodded as she finished her point and turned back to my computer.

Some people get really fired up about their politics. I can be that way, so I’m staying away from such discussions. I’ll only go so far as to explain to people who’ve been living under a rock some current events or background of which they may be unaware.

Speaking of informing people, I wonder how many people reading this blog have a favorable opinion of Sarah Palin? Anyone? I didn’t think so. Let me enlighten you. The woman is a complete asshole who has no problems thrusting her children into the spotlight for her own personal gain. Also, she’s judge-y towards everyone but herself and her offspring.

But aside from her personality flaws, she’s not so bad. Oh, and aside from her complete lack of skills needed to run the country (which doesn’t seem to be a threat anymore), she’s not so bad. If you read her Wikipedia page, objectively please, you will see what I see.

She’s pretty, charismatic, funny, devoted, and she was really pretty good at her job locally. She did just fine as mayor and she did just fine as governor.

Her big problem is that she’s a lightning rod. Some people love her, others hate her. There’s not a lot of indifference going on. She became unable to do her job because of all the animosity against her. She caused most of it by breaking up the status quo (good for her), but she couldn’t get things back to normal and couldn’t resolve problems with enemies (bad for her).

My point is… Sarah Palin should never be president, but doesn’t deserve some people’s unabashed hate. Also, Herman Cain is an idiot if he really thinks his 9-9-9 plan will work. Please, climb out from under your rock if you still don’t know what I mean and Google “Herman Cain 9-9-9 plan”.

As It Turns Out, I’m Actually A Grown-Up

When I was little, if I got sick, I would curl up into a little ball and let the sickness take over me. I wouldn’t eat or drink anything. I didn’t want to do anything except snuggle under the covers until the bacteria or virus had run it’s course. Luckily, I didn’t grow up in pre-penicillin days because that approach to healthcare surely would have had me taken out by some sort of pox by now.

But yet I made it through. I passed by an age where I had to leave my parents’ house. Well, actually I just went to college, then med school, then came home after med school, but left again after I got engaged. Long, stupid story. Just know that I live not in my parents’ house.

They always warned me that as an adult, I’d have no one to force me to take pills and drink orange juice and get better. I’d have to do it myself. Missing a day of school as a 5th grader was not the same as missing a day of work as a grown-up. I dismissed their warnings as a child. I did it because I was sick, I couldn’t care less, and I figured I’d be married as an adult and would have a husband to take care of me.

Fast forward 15 years and I’m sick again. I have to care because I have to work. Both of my Typhoid Mary impersonating parents were sick this week and their got me sick. I’ve been popping vitamin C everyday, but they had some strong shit going on in their nasal cavities. I came home from work yesterday with a terrible feeling in my throat. I took 2 Nyquil hoping that would work.

I woke up feeling even worse. I tried to take a Dayquil, but my throat was so swollen and sore that I could barely swallow it. You know you’re sick when you try to swallow a pill, can’t get it down, accidentally gag it back up, then swallow it again. What? TMI? Sorry.

I’m not married, yet, but I do live with my fiancé. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “awwww, this is where she comes in with that ‘life is great’ sweet engaged crap again. I’m sure he took good care of her.”

You would be wrong! He works days, I work nights. On weekdays, we don’t even cross paths physically, we chat on the phone while I’m driving to home and he’s driving away from home in the morning. So while I’m sick, he’s at work. And he had some music stuff to take care of (which is a story for another post) so he drove straight to DeKalb after work. He left me to fend for myself. Not that he’s the best caretaker when he is around. He’s getting better, but he’s no nursemaid material.

So there I was, ache-y, sore throat-y, sleepy, irritable, and starving. There was no one to take care of me but me. I knew I had to get up for work. I’d never missed a day and wasn’t about to start now. So Sucked on three cough drops until my throat was numb enough to take pills. I took another Dayquil, a claritin, and some Tylenol (don’t judge me, it’s not that many pills!). I made some ramen noodles so I’d have something in my stomach.

And I dragged my sorry ass off the couch and put on clothes and barely made it to work on time. I feel like crap, I’d rather be sleep. I miss my fiancé. I wish I were in 5th grade again so my momma could bring me some chicken noodle soup and my daddy could give me orange juice to take with my pills.

But I’m not in 5th grade anymore. Turns out, I’m an adult who can take care of herself. Cough.

Well Hello There!

I’ve been blogging on blogger for years. Years!

I’ve decided to try blogging on WordPress. I hear great things, and I’m too young to be set in my ways. So here I am!

I’m still navigating this new format, but I imagine I’ll have it down in no time… Maybe… I’m pretty tech savvy though… We’ll just have to see.

I want to introduce myself and give some background.

I’m 26 years old for a couple more days. I turn 27 on Tuesday. I’m a pretty stereotypical Libra. I’m engaged to a pretty stereotypical Cancer named. He’s a music teacher/musician I’m a non-profit donation coordinator. We met at a wedding last year and after a roller coaster courtship, we’re planning a wedding that will likely be way bigger and more fabulous than I intended or thought possible.

Just another Thursday night @ Andy's

My job is amazing. I work at a non-profit coordination donation for organ and tissue. It’s amazing work because I still get to save lives even though I’m not in medical school anymore (long story for another time). I will likely be talking about my job– or at least donation– here a lot. If you’re not signed up to be a donor, read up on it, learn more, and sign up!

My friends and family are pretty awesome. I’ll likely be talking about them on this blog as well. They are so much fun and when they’re not ignoring the fact that I need to sleep after working 12 hours on the night shift, they’re really amazing.

I love talking about television and politics, so that will come in as well. Disclosure: I like reality tv competitions and almost anything ABC does. I’m a life-long Democrat and I will be poking fun at Republicans for their lack of reality, hate of science, and hypocritical stances on caring for children.

I likely won’t be talking too much about my wedding since I have whole blog dedicated to it. I’m a blogger for My blog on that site can be read by clicking here.

Some other things about me:

1.My fiancé and I are shacking up cause we’re rebels. We moved into our apartment in June and it still isn’t set up. Oh the shame!

2. We have a crazy needy demanding cat full of personality who thinks she’s people. Her name is Belle. I love her a lot. I hope our co-dependent relationship doesn’t infer what type of parent I’ll be.

That iss Belle in my prom dress in our messy ass apartment. Do not ask.

I do believe that’s all I could squeeze out of my brain right now for an introduction. Wish me luck as I’m navigating this new blog. I must admit I’m kind of excited!