For Real.

Ok, so I had damn good intentions when I said I was gonna blog again.  But do you see what has happened?

Right.  Nothing.  Nothing but 2 measly posts.  Oh For Fox Sake, what was I thinking??

So, what happened?  I'll tell you what happened.  LIFE,  That's what happened.  Just LIFE.

Really,  does anyone else find that they don't have enough hours in a day?  Is it me?  Do I dilly dally all day long?  No,  I'm sure I don't.  I'm a nurse.  A hospice nurse.  I provide end of life care to my patients in their homes.  Most people cringe at the thought.  Not me.  I find it to be an honor, but that's another blog post.

Let's figure this out together.

I get up at 5:00am.  Ok, so my alarm goes off at 5:00am and I am out of the bed by 5:30.  I currently have 2 shorties that I have to get ready for school.  First and second graders.  The Little Man is the younger of the two and he's more self sufficient although sometimes I wish he would wait for a little help.  He will tell me he's going to make toast, and in my morning stupor I say ok, yeah, whatevs Man.  Then I hear the blazing siren of the smoke detector and I'm brought back into the present moment.

Lil Lady is less self sufficient.  In fact, putting it in a nice way, I can certainly say she is one hot mess.  Not sure where she gets it.  Certainly not from me.  I blame the girl teen.  Yes, I have one of those as well.  Neither of the girls likes to get up, and neither of them likes to go to bed.  I am raising night owls.  I love that they will be great party people some day.  

Except for one thing.  I work a day job!  Seriously people.  If I say it once, I say it a kazillion times in the morning.....HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN I HAVE A J-O-B?????  And yes, I spell it out.  Just like that.  They all look at me like I've lost my mind.  Spelling J-O-B like it's a dirty word.

So, for my J-O-B I am a nurse.  I run from house to house, medicating, managing pain and symptoms during the end of life, supporting families as best I can.  I give it my all, I truly do.  Even to the crotchety old guy that refers to Starbuck's as Starbuckles.  Yes, even he gets my 110%.  

During work I answer several texts from the teen girl.  Somehow the rule of no cell phones during classes has gone to the wayside, because either she's not in school when she's supposed to be, or the teachers have given up.  I must admit that sometimes I'm the one that starts the texting to her. Sometimes I just can't help it.  I see something funny, and I MUST share it.  Like this doozie.....

How could I NOT send that??  In my defense, she is nearly 18, so it's not like she hasn't heard profanity before.  I know you were thinking it.  Stop the judging. 

Anywhoozle, where was I?  Oh yeah, how my days go.  So after work I pick up the shorties, I listen to how their days have gone.  I ooooh and ahhhhh at the precisely the right times.  They are pleased I have paid attention.  We get home, I start to cook dinner, I start to get them going on their homework, I start to pet the dog, I start to vacuum, I start to fold some clothes, I rewash the ones in the washer since they have been in there for 3 days and smell like funk......I START all this shit, but never complete a thing.  We have dinner eventually after the spouse is home and saves me from the madness.  Actually, there is no saving happening.  He THINKS there is saving when in fact, he's my fourth child.  

After dinner I re-visit the homework situation.  Nope, Lil Lady is not done.  Not even started.  Little Man has been done for hours.  Remember?  Self sufficient.  I get Lil Lady to do her homework in between cleaning up the kitchen, picking up toys, emptying back packs, getting clothes ready for the next day, signing planners, wondering where my fourth kid spouse went, running bath water, getting my next day planned, charting if I slacked off during the work day like people think I do.  As if. (insert eyeroll)

I then retreat to the bathroom aka my office to check facebook, check email, play DOTS....and then all of a sudden it's after 11pm.  I have graduated from wherethehellismyspouse to wherethehellistheteengirl???  Seriously.  Hasn't she been given a curfew?  Who's in charge here??  So then starts the series of texts to find her whereabouts and tell her to get her scrawny ass home.  I don't know when I am supposed to not wait up for her.  Age 22?  35?  I don't know.  But I don't think it's 17.  Or 18.  Does any one know?  

There you have it.  The day is done.  The missing spouse is found on the kid's bedroom floor passed out, snoring like a freight train.  I leave him because I despise the snoring wouldn't want to disrupt his sleep.  The teen girl walks in the door, all happy and ready to chit chat when I'm ready to pass out. The dog is patiently waiting for her bedtime treat.....

She gets her goodnight cookie and I finally crawl into bed.  I don't look at the clock because I know it will flip me out.  I secretly convince myself I am getting more than 4 hours of sleep.  In fact, my clock isn't even set on the correct time.  About four years ago I gave up resetting it for daylight savings and shit.  And I also had it set to be 20 minutes fast, so I would get up and rush but then find that I was early.  It's a great feeling I recommend to anyone trying to pull a fast one on themselves.  

Before I know it, the alarm goes off and it's a mad rush to do it all over again.  I'm still wondering for how long my body can continue this madness.  There has to be a limit, yes?

So, peeps.....that's my life. 

For real.  

Peace out,

Just T.