I'll start off by noting that Rorschach, of inkblot fame, had the great misfortune of having a German name in an English-dominated world, made worse by the fact that of the 9 letters in his name, only 2 of them are vowels.

With that off my chest, I'll proceed with an abbreviated account of nursing work of the past 2 days. For some reason, moments of time-sensitive tasks decided to say, to heck with order, we want everything now! Two of my 3 patients had transport
at their door at the same time, while the third needed pain medicine. Then 2 of the 3 would call for pain medicine within 5 minutes
[that's intentionally ambiguous] while the other needed help to the bathroom. Or the highly-anxious family of the even-more-anxious patient would say said individual needed the wires and tubing lines straightened out
now because it was bringing on an anxiety attack, and I would be trying to get a 4th patient pain medicine right before
his transport left.
When I took my lunch break, I ate quickly, and then went to our very-necessary meditation room.
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This is not me. This is Despi. |
Last night, after clocking out a bit late, and with my phone dying, I walked to my car (approximately a mile away) only to find that my car had beat my phone to the punch. As in, it was dead. I got out a distress call to my husband (yay Mark!), who came and jumped me in the dark
[also intentionally ambiguous for the sake of humor] and still managed to get to bed by 10ish.
Surprisingly, I held it all together (mostly) [oh, and "it" is my composure. I can't pretend to control anything else].
Even more surprisingly, as I was walking to my car this evening, I saw a pretty interesting cloud formation that reminded me that life is weird and rough, but funny.
I don't know what you see, but when presented with this cloud-based inkblot test, I came up with "a guy carrying a rifle and a radio while balancing on the back of a brontosaurus."
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Good, right? |
I'm not a psychologist. Or a psychiatrist But I think this means that I should go to bed now.
Peace.
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