As previously mentioned, I’m a nursing student. Tomorrow I have a 10-12 page paper due in my law and ethics class. For those of you who are actually wondering what this class is about…yeah, I’m not interested either, but I’ll explain it anyway… this class is designed to
harp on and on and on again teach that it’s not good to unnecessarily sedate patients just so you won’t have to listen to them complain. I know, right? That sucks.
But instead of spending the day writing this effin paper (no need for gratuitous profanity today, I’m feeling much calmer than I did yesterday after that fucken field trip…oops, residual expletive) I have been blog hopping. Did you know there are all these funky blogs out there that do nothing but promote other blogs. You go to them, click on the ‘follow’ button, and then the blogger from that blog returns the favour. It’s fantastic!
Mind you, it’s not like I needed the encouragement. Ever since I discovered blogging a few weeks ago, I’ve become addicted to my laptop. As previously mentioned in another post… and no, I’m not going to shamelessly plug that previous post (http://absolutelynarcissism.blogspot.com/2010_06_23_archive.html) I’m
nosey very interested in what people have to say. I’m the type of person that will ask you so many questions, you won’t even be finished answering one before I’m shooting the next one off at you. Surprising, right, since I’m a narcissist. You’d think I wouldn’t care about you and your interests.
Really I don’t.
I’m just supremely competitive, as previously mentioned (http://absolutelynarcissism.blogspot.com/2010/06/to-quit-or-not-to-quit.html ) and my questions are a means of comparing myself to you. How many kids you got? Three? I have four. I win. How many times you’ve been married? Only once? I’ve been married twice. You lose.
Now though, I can think of nothing else but blogging. It’s making me realize I have a highly addictive personality. I better stay away from crack-cocaine or I’d be two hits away from sitting on the curb downtown playing rock/paper/scissors with Homeless Joe.
I’ve been putting off everything in order to sit in front of this screen and see who else is out there. There are some really terrific bloggers; people I log into first thing in the morning to see if they’ve put up a new post, people I feel a dorky kindred connection to. There’s Poppy over at http://www.funnyorsnot.com/ . She was my first positive comment. I guess you never forget your first, right… actually, I have sort of forgotten my first. Can’t remember his name, but I do remember he had really hairy arm pits and needed his eyebrows waxed in the worst way.
Meanwhile, my house is falling apart. I opened up the microwave this morning and let out a blood curdling scream when I saw the shit stuck on in there. Fuck! I don’t have time to chisel that out, it’s Follow-Me-Back-Tuesday.
And my kids. I haven’t looked at them straight in the face in about a week. I’m hidden away in my bedroom. They think I’m studying or working on papers for school. They don’t dare come in because Wayne, who also thinks I’m up here doing important nursing stuff, hollers out to them anytime they set foot at the top of the stairs, “Stay away from Mom, she’s studying!” This is fabulous!
When they do manage to sneak their way inside the room, I listen to them (not really) but my eyes are glued to pretty colours and designs, and while they’re telling me about… actually, not quite sure what they’re telling me about because I’m busy trying to figure out how to get fancy gadgets working on my site with music and shiny lights.
At one point today, when I could not for the life of me bullshit my way through an assignment in which a 59 year old man with decreased lung capacity is smoking, but needs extra care, but the nurse assigned to his case is struggling with the morals of not wanting to lobby for extra home care for him, because why should she, right? He’s a smoker with half a lung. He’s bad. The government shouldn’t be paying so he can have home care if he can’t even stop smoking…
…yawn… you still with me? See? This is the kind of shit I have to contend with. I’m supposed to get all sanctimonious and advocate for my patient because it’s his right to smoke even though he’s got one foot in the grave, and blah blah blah…geez, give the guy a carton of cigarettes, see how long you’ll actually have to have home care at his place. He’ll keel over in no time.
I would rather be blogging. I just would. I even cancelled a lunch date with my friend Joanne so I’d have more time to blog. A lunch date! I love eating out.
At one point today, I actually considered getting my friend’s father, who is a physician in his own family practice, to write me a note for class saying that I hadn’t finished the paper in time because my father passed away.
Well, he did! Fifteen years ago. But still. It’s not like I got a free pass for anything back then. Don’t I get to use it now?
So now you know. You know that I’m a blogging whore. I’ll stop at nothing to increase my following. No topic is sacred. Nobody is safe. If I can exploit you for a cheap laugh, I will. Stay away from me. I’m a bad bad person.
Ok, so I’m off to pack my camera in my purse. Never know what dumbass thing I’ll be able to post tomorrow. So much to look forward to.
And now back to the paper about the old fart with half a lung…