I gots em

My letters, anyway: one from Pearson Vue saying that I have their authorization to take the NCLEX, and one from the Florida Board of Nursing saying that I may being as a graduate nurse. Together in hand, I will present these to the hospital HR office, and my life is officially signed over to them.

It's been nice during this past month, getting to sleep in most of the days of the week, working here and there, studying for boards, and generally having an open schedule. Jason even had a week off in there, too, and until I cut it short by flying last-minute to Pennsylvania, it was sweet to have us both at home, arranging our schedules as we saw fit.

When I bring those letters to HR, though, it means that for the next three months, I work whenever my preceptor is working. My days working will be 12 hours of running around, alternately sweating and freezing, multi-tasking, ADD-fighting days. It will be a huge change from sitting on the couch, idly wondering whether you should watch Ellen, Oprah, or just flip back and forth on commercial breaks. I think I was re-developing soft spots on my skull.

And yet with all of the above comes the job for which I have been dreaming, working, studying, sometimes slaving, and hoping for six years now, when the idea first entered my head that maybe, just maybe, instead of running around from audition to audition (note: I have always hated auditions!), I could rekindle that childhood dream of being a nurse and enjoy what I do.


graduation day with wendy and shannon

My pay gets doubled. My job satisfaction multiplies exponentially, even with the frustrating, teeth-gnashing days I know will pop up now and then. Plus, I get to wear scrubs instead of polyester-blend something with pantyhose. I don't like pantyhose. I like pajama-like workwear.