Who Loves The Sun

My hands smell like babies.  Really peachy-fresh babies.  It’s one of the perks of working at the farmers market of organic human produce where many of my tasks include handling little human peaches.  Every other part of me right now is less fresh.  My hair needs desperate TLC and today it occurred to me that I am skin twins with our jaundice babies–why hasn’t anyone told me this?? Uh, Rebecca, what yellow skin you have…I used to be pale.  Now I’m just pale yellow–ew. My general attitude towards the solar lightbulb was wanting as little to do with it as possible until about two months ago when I developed this weird crush on it.  I always thought being cold was a million times better than being too hot but then after one too many times observing my sunny sibling enjoying some space light outside while her vampire sister hid inside, I decided to get crazy and try it out before the NCLEX surely killed me.

Turns out, there’s nothing quite on the same level of sensory deliciousness as sun kisses. For a few weeks I was hooked on the sun, the way it felt like hot velvet on my skin.  I’d lay on the backyard picnic table with some tunes and watch the clouds move.  There’s another thing!  It’s one of those things that people in movies do but when in real life do we have the time or idea to just look at clouds?  Anyways, it had been so long since I had felt free enough to do that and it was perfect.  Let’s go back.

Anyways, my days with the sun are over now because I’m back in the workforce so now the golden hue is sickly yellow.  While screening the ‘peaches’ for bilirubin levels today (that’s the stuff that turns them into yellow smurfs) I was pretty temped to flip the little bili-scanner on my own forehead.  Oh well, who loves the sun?  Not everyone.

Right now it’s pouring outside and the thunder is ground-shaking.


Who Loves The Sun–Velvet Underground

Ashamed–Deer Tick

Mightiest of Guns–A.A. Bondy

Sometimes I’m just too lazy for words.  So here are some     pictures that partially capsulate life right now, just odds and ends of the everyday.











unnamed-7 unnamed-6

Hesitating Beauty–Wilco

Valley of Death–Blitzen Trapper

Voodoo Child–Jimi Hendrix

So Much Wine, Merry Christmas–Andrew Bird

To Be Young (Is To Be Sad)–Dave Rawlings Machine





Oh come on, you didn’t believe that did you?  “Too lazy for words” lazy-yes, but for words? Check my pulse when that happens.  Speaking of pulse, today was a solid nurse-y day.  Turns out not needing your clinical instructor to sign ever single little thing off that you chart and do is kind of scary and awesome at the same time.  Assisting with procedures that need an RN to co-sign/review is crazy when you realize that the doctor is looking at you to put your super official name down there!  Let’s use an example…let’s say…circumcision.  **”ohmygosh REBECCA. thanks a whole freaking ton for bringing that to my already-burdened brain today

I’ll give you a minute to recover from choking on your coffee while looking down at your pants and thanking your stars for that extra X chromosome or for the fact that you can’t remember squat from those fresh days as a human.  O.K. minute’s over, pull yourself together.**

So, you’re reviewing the consent form and then sign your name with a nursey flourish and kiss your ID badge  (well hopefully you saved that little victory act for a more solitary time, or at least a time when the doctor isn’t about to alter the manhood of your tiny patient.)  The mental high-five quickly ices over into a mental face-slap and you feel like a total traitor to that tiny XY patient.  Ah, kid…so when I said you were gonna be ok earlier..well that depends on your definition of O.K….

Ah, well hopefully they won’t remember that traitor nurse from their early days and will eventually learn to trust again.

Back to the sun, will you do that this week?  Just take 5 minutes under the solar lightbulb, and observe the clouds push around the sky? I hope you do.  Happy Sunday













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