My neighbors are going TO DIE.
Okay, so they aren't playing music after ten anymore (for now), but other than that, the police had no affect on them. Apparently, they are the victims here, people. The world is out to get them and their little band, too. And, anyway, NO ONE works on Sundays, so who cares if we make noise tonight?! How do I know this? Because, I heard them talking about it. Out on the stoop by my bedroom. All. Night. Long.
Bitches gonna die.
I should have gotten up and told them to shut up, but they knew I was there, they were doing it to piss me off. So, I played queen in the land of passive aggressive and took to clearing my throat every time they came out and got a little loud. And, luckily they took the hint...for about three hours. So, I got about four hours of real, true sleep. I guess it could be worse. Except, of course, that I do have to work on Sundays.
My whole body hurts. Maybe from lack of sleep. Probably because I started yoga last night. Ugh.
800mg ibuprofen, you are my god.
I want to talk to my landlord about them, but he hardly does anything to keep the place up (he's not highly lord-like in this land), do I actually think he will care that his resident EMT has noisy neighbors? I would hope he would threaten to kick them out; put their asses on the street. I know it would make more than just me happy. But, i know better. Money, even late and probably in small bills, is still money. God forbid these people ever need an ambulance; I'll be too tired tired to save their lives. Luckily, I have a partner for that.
I just don't know what else to do. Well, besides murdering them. Murdering them all.
So, I have been chewing on a plan for Seattle, and I think I almost have one, but it's going to take a lot of planning and a lot of saving. Am I up for the task?
I don't know, but it's one of those tricky things wherein if I never try, I'll always wonder. And, then, I'm terrified of failure. Do you ever feel like you're just standing still? That's my life--stuck stalk still. Sigh.
I just want to find where I feel at home. A place I can call home, and be proud and comfortable and happy. Maybe not happy every day, or happy all day, but happy to be where I am doing what I am doing and feeling the full force of moving forward with my life. I want to be there.
But, I can't know for certain that Seattle is there, so I will have to find out. Which means I will have to visit before I commit, which costs money and takes time. It has to be done, though, so I shouldn't whine.
The other issue: what do I do once I am there?! That has been the real meat of the Seattle question. What do I do? Because, Medic One, probably the best EMS service around, only hires paras, and I don't have my license or the at-least-three-years experience. And, because I don't want to be a paramedic for the rest of my life, I don't want to spend the time becoming the absolute best here in Oklahoma just to have a shot at Medic One. That's too many years of feeling at a stand still. If I wanted to be a para, that would be the dream and I would do it in a heartbeat, just like that. But, as it is, I can't see myself taking the time just to tack on three years experience in a system like this. I don't think that would make me very happy. But, maybe I am crazy to not take that route. Although, as much more secure as it seems than, say, moving with no job, nothing is certain and I without wanting to risk everything for Medic One, I don't think I want to take the chance and spend the years.
So, what do I do? Because, EMTs all work for fire, and as commendable as that job is, I DO NOT want to run into fires. For any reason. Ever. I am a coward.
So, I don't know.
...remember, back in the day when I started this silly blog? I said I'd thought about becoming a cop. Well, SPD is hiring, the next exam is in March. I could get a few years in as an officer, truly make up my mind.... Between medicine and murder, that's how my thoughts have gone now for five years. Surgery or service? And, yes, my love for medicine is strong, but that inkling to practice law enforcement is still there, itching the back of my brain every time I see a cop on scene or watch a frivolous TV drama. It's there, wanting to be scratched, and this could be my opportunity.
So? What do I do?
I think my twenties should be spent gaining the world experience I will put into practice in my thirties--probably as a doctor. So, I should take the opportunity and just jump.
I'm terrified, but isn't that what makes the free fall so much fun? Not knowing what or who will catch you, but instilling a blind faith in yourself that something, somehow, will?
What I want is to have an adventure. But, also, what I want is to find my home.
So, I'll go? So I'll go.
Life is hard. Plans are hard. Figuring out what's best for me is hard. Especially when, anymore, I don't trust my own judgement.
Sigh.
Usually Obeys Commands; Housebroken
Okay, so they aren't playing music after ten anymore (for now), but other than that, the police had no affect on them. Apparently, they are the victims here, people. The world is out to get them and their little band, too. And, anyway, NO ONE works on Sundays, so who cares if we make noise tonight?! How do I know this? Because, I heard them talking about it. Out on the stoop by my bedroom. All. Night. Long.
Bitches gonna die.
I should have gotten up and told them to shut up, but they knew I was there, they were doing it to piss me off. So, I played queen in the land of passive aggressive and took to clearing my throat every time they came out and got a little loud. And, luckily they took the hint...for about three hours. So, I got about four hours of real, true sleep. I guess it could be worse. Except, of course, that I do have to work on Sundays.
My whole body hurts. Maybe from lack of sleep. Probably because I started yoga last night. Ugh.
800mg ibuprofen, you are my god.
I want to talk to my landlord about them, but he hardly does anything to keep the place up (he's not highly lord-like in this land), do I actually think he will care that his resident EMT has noisy neighbors? I would hope he would threaten to kick them out; put their asses on the street. I know it would make more than just me happy. But, i know better. Money, even late and probably in small bills, is still money. God forbid these people ever need an ambulance; I'll be too tired tired to save their lives. Luckily, I have a partner for that.
I just don't know what else to do. Well, besides murdering them. Murdering them all.
So, I have been chewing on a plan for Seattle, and I think I almost have one, but it's going to take a lot of planning and a lot of saving. Am I up for the task?
I don't know, but it's one of those tricky things wherein if I never try, I'll always wonder. And, then, I'm terrified of failure. Do you ever feel like you're just standing still? That's my life--stuck stalk still. Sigh.
I just want to find where I feel at home. A place I can call home, and be proud and comfortable and happy. Maybe not happy every day, or happy all day, but happy to be where I am doing what I am doing and feeling the full force of moving forward with my life. I want to be there.
But, I can't know for certain that Seattle is there, so I will have to find out. Which means I will have to visit before I commit, which costs money and takes time. It has to be done, though, so I shouldn't whine.
The other issue: what do I do once I am there?! That has been the real meat of the Seattle question. What do I do? Because, Medic One, probably the best EMS service around, only hires paras, and I don't have my license or the at-least-three-years experience. And, because I don't want to be a paramedic for the rest of my life, I don't want to spend the time becoming the absolute best here in Oklahoma just to have a shot at Medic One. That's too many years of feeling at a stand still. If I wanted to be a para, that would be the dream and I would do it in a heartbeat, just like that. But, as it is, I can't see myself taking the time just to tack on three years experience in a system like this. I don't think that would make me very happy. But, maybe I am crazy to not take that route. Although, as much more secure as it seems than, say, moving with no job, nothing is certain and I without wanting to risk everything for Medic One, I don't think I want to take the chance and spend the years.
So, what do I do? Because, EMTs all work for fire, and as commendable as that job is, I DO NOT want to run into fires. For any reason. Ever. I am a coward.
So, I don't know.
...remember, back in the day when I started this silly blog? I said I'd thought about becoming a cop. Well, SPD is hiring, the next exam is in March. I could get a few years in as an officer, truly make up my mind.... Between medicine and murder, that's how my thoughts have gone now for five years. Surgery or service? And, yes, my love for medicine is strong, but that inkling to practice law enforcement is still there, itching the back of my brain every time I see a cop on scene or watch a frivolous TV drama. It's there, wanting to be scratched, and this could be my opportunity.
So? What do I do?
I think my twenties should be spent gaining the world experience I will put into practice in my thirties--probably as a doctor. So, I should take the opportunity and just jump.
I'm terrified, but isn't that what makes the free fall so much fun? Not knowing what or who will catch you, but instilling a blind faith in yourself that something, somehow, will?
What I want is to have an adventure. But, also, what I want is to find my home.
So, I'll go? So I'll go.
Life is hard. Plans are hard. Figuring out what's best for me is hard. Especially when, anymore, I don't trust my own judgement.
Sigh.
Usually Obeys Commands; Housebroken
Perhaps you could do both:
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