That Bloody Girl

I think I am going to start writing again. Not blogging  or  journaling ( as if I do that on a regular basis. Ha), but actually writing . You know, stories and stuff. Like I used to. Or, really, like I used to want to but never had the motivation/courage/follow through to actually do. For a while there, I was going to be  a writer, you know. In fact, I have pretty much intended to be published and selling since I was six. You can see how well that turned out. Luckily there is the wonderful internet, on which I post my drivel for all five of you to read. (Thanks for that, by the way.) Back in the day, I had a whole anthology of short stories planned out. I still have all the work I did on them and all the ideas still swim in my head every so often, reminding me that I do think of some possibly cool things every now and then. Reminding me that I used to believe I was a good writer, even though I am probably just mediocre. Now, I pretty much just write because I never wanted to get o

Started: 21 March 2012 at 1411. Today has been too slow of a day. It needs to go by faster. It is only just after two and we have to go until 1745 this evening. We're stuck down on fifteen. And it's our Friday! Almost makes a girl want to say the “Q” word. Don't say the “Q” word, dude! I'm almost that desperate to be done with this day, but maybe not quite. The partner situation of the last two weeks is almost completely sorted. It all kind of came to an ugly head on Monday morning—a stupid but ugly head. Since then, they haven't put me back on that truck. And then I got a call. I shouldn't have even come close  to saying the "Q" word. (What's the "Q" word, you ask. QUIET. I can say it now, because I am off until Saturday. And, guess what? Other than potential thunder storms--awesome--I intend to have a quiet night. A nice, quiet night. Heh.) So, anyway, I pick up now...and this is what I was going to say: I've

The new iPad came out. And, consequently, the old iPad--aka iPad 2--is $400. I want one. But...I can't really afford to throw down $433, after tax, for something I don't actually NEED right now. BUT I WANT ONE. This is the story of my life. I would love to buy one, but with the transitions I am facing, I have no guarantee that I will manage on $300 for the next two weeks. What if something comes up? I know logically I shouldn't spend anything. Just let it sit in there and mold. That's what I should  do, but I will tell you the temptation to spend it and give myself a happy little white iPad with free engraving and all is killing me. I've only wanted one for forever, and since I wouldn't get 3G or any accessory or a the NEW iPad, I would  be compromising. But, I still can't justify it. It's just not right, people, to spend money you don't really have. Or, I have it, but not a lot of it. Ugh. How do people live like this? Budgeting themselves

I am up WAY too early. Especially since I went to bed after one am this morning. It's 0737! Wow. So, I thought I would talk about some good things today as well as some things I missed talking about yesterday. First of all, on Saturday, I put down a deposit on an apartment! It is in Brady Heights, which is apparently a very old Tulsa neighborhood that used to be a fancy part of town, then got run down with poverty, and is now becoming a hub for young professionals (that's me!) and artsy, creative people. The apartment is big for the price, was built in the twenties or thirties, and has a SUN ROOM. I am mostly excited about the sun room. Could you tell? So, today I am going to go draw up the lease and find out if it is clean and ready to paint--they want to buy the paint if I will do the actual painting. I just want to paint the sun room the same yellow as the living room. If I have to push the roller, who cares? It'll be yellow!--and then I can start prepping to move

I am honestly trying to update more often than I do, but lately all that has actually been going on in my life--and my head--is dealing with my surly partner. And, I don't really want to spread smack about him all over the internet, so I have been refraining from updating...and speaking. Talking about it just agitates me, anyway. And, let's face it, agitated me isn't as much fun as regular me. And neither of them are as much fun as drunk me, but that's for a later date. I did see something cool this week. We used adenosine on Tuesday. I had never seen it in action before. 'Twas a learning experience for me. We were called to the house of a twenty-nine year-old female, nineteen weeks gestation, chief complaint of "chest pain". She wasn't really in pain, but rather in SVT (supraventricular tachycardia) at a rate of 240. She said this is something she has been dealing with her whole life, little episodes of SVT, although she'd never had it diagno

I love my job. But, lately I've been on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Partners have an unprecedented bond. We're meant to have each other's backs, help each other out, literally hold each other's lives in our hands. What happens when that relationship turns sour? You would think we would talk it out. Lay out all that's bothering us, accept responsibility for our faults, acknowledge the other's hurt feelings --you know, we're adults. But, if your partner is my partner, talking about annoyances and little irritants would "make waves" in the relationship. So, instead, I find myself the target of explosive episodes of anger. What the hell am I supposed to do about this? Especially when I try to talk, and get shot down immediately. I am at a loss, and seriously considering speaking to someone about finding a new shift. Finding a new partner. Even someone I couldn't respect would be better than someone I am beginning to resent. But, I don&

I have had a long couple of weeks. I have been sick and exhausted and lacking patience. I have been in serious need of a vacation. I haven't been in a very good mood. And I have figured out that I can't be an ambulance driver for much longer. Certainly not for the rest of my life. Don't get me wrong, I like driving, I like running hot. There is something quite nice about merging onto the highway, flooring the gas pedal, alternating the sirens, and cutting through traffic in a big ass truck with a giant box on the back. There isn't a whole lot in this world like it. Yes, it's fun. But, driving every day, five days a week, twelve hours a day, everywhere we go... We finally make it to post and I am feeling the serious need to shut my eyes for ten minutes, that's when the hour changes and we have to put it in gear again. And every patient that wants a trip to the hospital. In our system, I can't take over a BLS call and chill in the back with my probably-