shift

Significant life events have occurred since my last publication. Last Thursday I took the national nursing exam (AKA NCLEX) and, miraculously, passed. NCLEX was easily the most difficult exam I have every taken. I’ll spare the harrowing details of the ordeal and instead share this bizarre twist of fate: Three hours after I leave the testing facility I’m home, trying to unwind and relieve myself of the stress (after all, the three previous years had ostensibly been spent preparing for NCLEX) when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number and briefly consider not answering, but my brain explodes with this unlikely thought: four days previous I had submitted my application for employment at a local hospital – a facility in which I spent nearly 300 clinical hours as a nursing student; perhaps this is a call inquiring about an interview? I answer. And it is. Before my brain can comprehend the momentousness of the interaction I’ve scheduled a job interview for the following day. The interview goes incredibly well, and, barring a hiccup with regulatory background/criminal history (I’m expecting no issues), I’m all but assured a job offer. I always prepare for the worst and never expect the best, so until I actually receive the offer, I’m reserving exaltation.

“But what about the Pacific Northwest?”

I know, I know. Despite my anxiety about making such a dramatic move, I had the greater Seattle area in my sights, but after researching employment opportunities at several area hospitals, I began having serious doubts about potential employment. I found not a single hospital seeking graduate nurses; every position I found sought a minimum of one year’s experience. By staying here, I can get experience at a nationally recognized hospital; it’s also a facility of which I’m very familiar. By moving to the Pacific Northwest, I risked settling for a less-than-ideal position, which could potentially cost me future opportunities. I will find my home in Seattle – now just isn’t the most opportune time to seek it.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Two nights ago I created a match.com profile, and last night I dropped $60 for three months access. This is my first foray into online dating, and now that I’m in it, I’m not sure what happens next. I’ve always been socially awkward, if not inept. I’m shy, introverted. And I’m quickly discovering that these shortcomings extend to the world of cyber dating. Paid access allows me to see who views my profile; since being active, four different ladies have viewed me (well, the online version of me, and, when piecing together your profile, which basically amounts to an advertisement, it’s difficult to paint an accurate and relative objective picture of yourself, especially when self-consciousness plagues your perception of yourself). So now what? I now understand my shyness is born from an immense fear of rejection, and it is this fear that cripples me when I simply think about contacting someone. I don’t know. Perhaps I’m being too selective in seeking a potential mate. Maybe I’m fucked either way. Before constructing my profile I’d determined my previous relationships were destined to fail because, out of shear desperation, I had accepted whomever gave me attention.

Enough of these ridiculous and desperate rationalizations. The vodka is wearing thin and the hour is late.

t/c/m

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~ by the coordinates of memories on 31 January 2012.

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