End Of The Line

End Of The Line–Hurray For The Riff Raff

I Know It’s Wrong (But That’s Alright)–Hurray For the Riff Raff

Broken Drum–Beck

Two weeks ago I took a little trip down to Pittsburgh for some nursey interviews (really channeled my inner Schrute for these)

Pre-Interview: 

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During Interview:

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Post Interview:

 

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Interview day ended on a fantastic note because I wound up playing music with pals in a lovely city on a lovely night!  It was so nice to get out on a little solo trip by myself, just to spend time driving alone is kind of therapeutic.  Had some great times, musical reunion, great breakfast food, wonderful live music with none other than Mr. Jeff Tweedy (who as good as his music is, wasn’t the most polite stage character, but we all have those days I suppose!) and Trampled By Turtles 🙂

What else is new? First, there is one thing I’m pretty sure about regarding the flow of late college/early adult life is that either nothing is happening at all or everything is happening all at once.  (is it a thing to call yourself a ‘baby adult’? Because that’s the term I think would communicate my human status right now).  I went on a short dip into the ‘nothing at all’ category after graduation and was basically just waiting around to get my authorization to schedule my NCLEX test date.  But one fated night I received The Email=Ready. Set. Chaos.  Scheduled the test, realized I had no recollection of how studying occurs and realized I had a sensation not unlike that feeling of being strapped into a roller coaster that your friends are making you ride because they think you need to get over your intense fear of amusement parks.  And the roller coaster people are checking your seatbelt and you are looking up at them with pleading eyes to release you from the self-inflicted terror trip, but too late duckie!  You’re in.  And it’s going straight uphill.  And it’s the uphill before the straight downhill that makes me sick with disorganized terror, the anticipation of falling off the drop is like canned panic.

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Thanks to group text, I’ve been able to communicate with the post-Hersh nursing school world and share sentiments with equally “fine” pre-NCLEX nurslings.  In fact, one of them-my sweet roommate from months past, took great sympathy on my increasingly erratic emotional windstorms and ended up driving down to State College last week for a little QT and therapy sesh.  Spending time with her again was kind of like drinking water after chewing desert sand.  She’s a gem.  I sometimes think of ways to kidnap her.  #RedFlag..?

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SPEAKING of chewing rocks-that is what I told my dentist I did when they showed me an X-ray of my molars riddled with microscopic fractures last week.  Turns out I was the only one joking and they began to seriously evaluate me for pica  to which I realized a little late in the game and had to clarify with them that I did not in fact chew rocks in my spare time.  Turns out my teeth are ticking time bombs due to severe jaw clenching over the past few years.  It’s like I was in nursing school or something.

On an even sillier note, I’m enjoying some Jenna Marbles–>

What A Girl’s Hair Means

What A Girl’s Makeup Means

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Have a Wednesday!

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*Thank you pintrest, and tumblr for any picture that moved and this last artsy one.

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