I was catching up with a few people over the week and they all mentioned what a tough time I am having. Which is funny, because day to day I don't really FEEL like I am having a tough time. But I suppose it's been a really hard year. I just have been blaming it on things like this awful fucking weather. Or on my terrible instructor who I can't stand and will see for the last time tomorrow. Or whatever is driving me crazy. (So sorry about that, sweets...)

So I thought I would write about the good things, just to have a little balance. That's when it struck me that the whole problem is that I don't have any balance. I'm stuck in a place I don't love for the second time in my life and that is very very hard for me. In a few weeks a lot of my friends will be leaving me and this town for greater things. They've all done what they came here to do and now they are getting real nurse practitioner jobs, while I am here looking forward to another few years of this. I don't know if it's fear or resolve that is powering me along at this point, but it certainly isn't always conviction. Perhaps simple insanity helps explain why I chose to remain here and do the doctoral route. I think it also has to do with the fact that I don't feel ready to jump out of this cake and announce to the world that I am a ready-for-the-job-market oncology nurse practitioner. I'm something else- the perpetual student. and a scaredy cat.

I did get a job, though. I forgot to post it here because I just plum haven't had time. or anything good to write about. my attempt at being funny fell so flat, the wind was blown out of the journaling sails for a little bit.

So I got a job working at an inpatient hospice. The good news is I really like the place- it has a lot of the qualities of the dream job I imagined before I got into this whole nursing mess. I will be a staff RN, white shoes and all. The bad news is I will have few opportunities to practice up on all my big fat oncology knowledge that I have spent the past year trying to cram into this head. I will be using the pain management and end of life stuff, but that was easy to learn. The chemotherapy regimens were hard, and *poof* have gone. very frustrating. So I will be delivering drugs and talking with patients and families about dying ALL DAY LONG. I can't wait.

I also was accepted into this Native American Cancer Researchers Training program that i think is funded by the National Cancer Institute. that is a little unclear. which tells me that it is created by natives, for natives. because natives don't care about that crap, only academics do. Anyway, it's a three week all expenses paid program where I get to learn about how to become a better researcher. (I almost wrote "batter" researcher, but then I decided to leave the pancakes up to the professionals and stick with what I know best.)

I have a big exam tomorrow. A little big exam, like little big horn. or little big man. Half a semester's worth of lectures crammed into 20 multiple choice questions. If I don't have an anxiety attack WHILE taking the test, I am sure to have one either immediately before or immediately after. Of course, the test is written by my arch nemesis. ho. Then she wants to do us all a favor by taking the class out to lunch at some deli. She would do us a much bigger favor if she spontaneously combusted, if you ask me.

*poof*

just like those chemotherapy drugs. gone, in an instant.