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7 Sep

The driveway is narrow, but Britton insists on backing in anyways. We park under the huge willow tree, behind the white Audi Convertible. I walk up the flagstone walkway to the front door, and punch the code into the lock that doesn’t quite work anymore. I set my bag and shoes down on the stone entry-way flooring. Sheila has fresh sunflowers in a crystal vase by the door. The house smells like the candles she always lights. I run up the stairs and down the hallway to our room, Britton and I’s room.  It’s very large, with aqua walls. A huge mirror in an ornate gold frame faces the wall across from the queen sleigh bed. The blue paisley duvet and 10 pillows call my name. I sink into the soft mattress. The sheets are the softest I have ever slept in, and cost more than I could ever afford. I love coming here.

In this bed, I could sleep for days.

This is so exactly what I need right now. The comfort of home, and the luxury to help me forget that all my troubles are a mere 15 minute walk away – lying in a bed in the ICU, giving away family heirlooms to a woman he’s known only for a year.

The bitter taste in my mouth spoils everything.

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my happiness project

3 Sep

If you follow me on twitter, you might have seen a tweet referencing the fact that I’m starting my very own Happiness Project

I started the project on Sept. 1st, and will be blogging about it at least monthly, possibly weekly depending on my work schedule.

I obviously got the idea after buying Gretchen Rubin’s book, The Happiness Project.

I’m going to try and explain this project, and keep it concise – so bear with me here.

You really need to get this book to fully understand what the project is about. The author was a happy person with a happy life, but felt like she wasn’t fully enjoying what really mattered. In order to turn this around, she launched a one year project in which she took various scientific studies, wisdom, and other lessons about how to be happier. She broke everything down and assigned herself monthly goals, (for example: go to sleep earlier, start a blog, etc.) that made her a happier person.

I feel as though I am a happy person. I took the Authentic Happiness Inventory Questionnaire and score a 3.4 out of 5. However, lately I can’t help but feel as though I’ve kind of had a chip on my shoulder.
I think we all sometimes let the not-so-great things in life sort of take the lead, and I’m no exception. For one, I feel lonely living in Northern Ontario. It’s beautiful, but it just isn’t “home”. There has also been some not-so-great stuff going down at work in terms of labour relations, and that has probably affected me more than almost anything else this year. I work more, and enjoy it less.

I’m feeling less like myself everyday, and I know that I am heading toward a major relapse in terms of my bulimia nervosa.

texts between a friend and I

So this is it. I start this month. (Note, I am still working away at my 101 in 1001 project as well!)

my goals for september were indeed plagiarized from Gretchen Rubin herself. The focus is improving my energy:

– Go to sleep earlier
– Exercise better
– Toss, restore, organize
– tackle a nagging task
– act more energetic

How am I doing so far?? I’m failing. But in my defense, Britton and I are away this week in Waterloo with friends, so we aren’t home to do many of those things. I’m on track for exercising, but going to bed at 2am most days…

Stay tuned!

I’ll (hopefully) do a recap at the end of the week outlining my first week on the project!

-Stephanie

meet my mom

9 May

I’m a day late, but yesterday was spent working, and then spoiling my mom with dinner, a movie, and a pedicure.

I’ll just cut to the chase here. My mom is awesome.

Not only is she super good looking and smart, she’s super fun!
I can party with my mom anywhere, anytime.


Yup. That’s my mom pole dancing at her friend’s bachlorette.

Aside from being awesome in general, she’s pretty much the best when it comes to mothering us as well. She never ever judges us no matter what. She is always there with wise advice, but supports us no matter what choices we make.

happy mothers day to the coolest mom on the planet.

    

I made a mistake.

18 Apr

I haven’t blogged in a while and I’m so not sorry.

About a month ago my grand-maman Alice was hospitalized and she passed away last sunday. If you know me at all, you know I don’t handle stress particularly well and am easily overwhelmed – so if things are going well, I feel as though I have time for cleaning, and blogging, and making myself healthy lunches and hanging out with friends. When I feel stressed, I feel overwhelmed, and sorry to say blogosphere – you’re the last on my list of shit-I-need-to-do.

I would love to write a post about how cool my grand-maman was. I’ve been blessed to have been very close with both my grandmas and loved them both very much. I even got to live with them both during my life! My Grand-maman Alice is pretty much one of the most remarkable women I have ever known – and no, I’m not just saying that because she’s my grand-maman and I’m biased. She actually was an indisputably remarkably awesome woman who was WAY advanced for her time. However, I’m still a bit too upset and things are bit too raw for me to write a post without it coming out as stupendously sappy and so cheesy it’s almost not vegan. So I will hold off on that post for a while.

Maybe it’s the stress talking right now, but I will come out and just say this. I think I made a mistake. I don’t think I should have become a nurse.

I love nursing. The job itself rules. However, I hate nursing short-staffed. Which is always.

I am still struggling to comprehend how a job so awesome can quickly become the shittiest (sometimes literally) job on the planet. Most shifts I don’t get my breaks because I have to choose between providing good nursing care to my patients or taking my lunch. If I do get a break, I can only take half of it. I never get paid for working through my breaks, never get paid for having to stay late to chart on the 20 patients who were put into isolation in one single night (Fuck you Noro Virus!) – I can never find parking, I’m not even allowed to get FREE parking for my own job, and they call me at all hours offering me over-time shifts which I feel guilty turning down. And of course there are all the other nurses who keep it together, work overtime shifts three days per week and never complain. I wish I could be one of them, but I’m not. I need 8 hours of sleep, I need time to myself, and dammit, I need to eat my effing lunch.

I also feel like it’s chipping away at parts of my personality that I like. For one thing, I am WAY less empathetic. No nurse starts her career wanting to be the bitchy one. We all want to be the best nurse our patient has ever had. The one who very rarely fucks up, and takes the extra time to give hand massages with bed baths (would you believe I actually learned this in school !?). The reality is that you will never have enough staff to pull that off. Ever. I cut corners every day. I know it’s wrong, and I feel guilty about it all the time, but the truth is that if I don’t, I will never leave on time, I will never again know what having a break feels like, and I will lose my fucking mind. They told me in school it would be like this. For some reason, it doesn’t sink in until you live it. Sure, I thought I knew what it was about after 12 weeks of preceptorship. 12 weeks is nothing. I’ve been doing it now for 9 months non-stop and I just can’t do this anymore.

This year, I’ve been sicker than I ever have in my life. I have high blood pressure (stress related), my knees are always swollen (stress related, and proof of my lack of breaks and having to stand for 8 hours without end), I’m very fatigued (stress) and I’ve gained weight (stress). Enough is enough! I need to take care of ME first.

Unfortunately, I have no clue what else i would want to do with my life.

thoughts?

the latest and not-so-greatest (warning: I totally talk about puke)

20 Feb

On Thursday night,  I was forced to live something I never wish to relive.

I was sick, and I was alone. Well, I had the cats.

Guys, maybe you don’t understand… I was vomiting – and I had to rinse out my own emesis basin! (read: barf bowl)

Westley then proceeded to take a nap in said emesis basin (Don’t judge! It was rinsed!)

I am a terrible cat owner.

I gave him a bath when I felt better the next day – but I didn’t have the energy to fight with him over the stainless steel bowl that found itself in my bed.So sue me. Emesis just doesn’t bug me very much! (good thing, since I deal with it on the regular!)

BTW, stainless steel bowls make the BEST basins. They are nice and cold, just like the porcelain throne, but they smell much better. You can get sick  from the comfort of your own bed!!! (while three cats watch – and stealthily try to sniff the product of all that wretching)

Yummmmmyyyyyyy!!!!

I promise next post won’t be so disgusting.

motoring with mrs.jenner

11 Jan

To the person I drove behind this morning,

You had to know I was on my way to work… where else would I (or anyone else) be going at 7am on a Tuesday?

You might remember me? I was the one who had oldies blaring when we got stuck behind the longest train in the history of trains?? I got a little antsy about possibly being late – I’m sure I’m not the only one – and see… they were playing Pink Floyd on the radio, and The Wall is kind of calming in an angsty sort of way… I kind of couldn’t resist. But I digress.

Things had been great up until that point – I had been following you for quite a while. Truth is, I liked your style. I liked the speed you drove, I liked the way you let others drivers in ahead of you – and most of all, I thought your personalized plates were kind of cute!

After the train? Everything changed.

Why you decided to drive 40km/hr in a 60 zone I will never know. I know I probably shouldn’t have honked at you, but I couldn’t pass you due to the huge lineup of cars in the other lane zooming past us. I tried to be patient, told myself you were just warming up… we’d be moving a long in no time. I was wrong. You kept driving slowly… for tens of minutes I was stuck behind you like this. No escape.

I still made it to work on time (barely). I forgive you.

Just know that the sweet personalized plate that I so admired was oh-so easy to memorize. I’ll be watching for you. And so will the gods of Road Karma.

Signed,

The driver of the totally dope 1999 beige matte gold Pontiac Sunfire.

seven months, seven years and our 7 resolutions

5 Jan

Hard to believe that it was 7 whole months ago we said “I Do”, and in 12 days it will be 7 years that we’ve been a couple. ( Ok, that sounded super fromage, I know… but seriously! where has the time gone?!)

Dating for 5 whole months, taken in Washington DC while visiting his Dad for a week. We were both 16 in this picture.

 

Our wedding, 05/06/10. Taken in my mother-in-law's white Audi convertible two-seater.

 

 

Soon we won’t be “newlyweds” anymore, which makes me a little sad.

On the plus side though, I have big plans for our first anniversary – and that makes me excited!!

Britton and I have always made a big deal out of our anniversary, and I like that! With the exception of our second dating anniversary, we’ve always gone on some sort of trip, gotten a hotel for the weekend, dined at fancy restaurants, and just been super mushy and disgusting for two days!

We’re pretty sappy – even 7 years later.

but I digress,

here are our seven resolutions as a couple, my own personal ones will be published when I’m done deciding on them.

1. Have the usual sap-tastic anniversary
2. Pay down our Stephanie’s school debt.
3. hopefully move back to Waterloo (nowhere else feels quite so much like home!)
4. travel a bit (within Canada or out of Canada – we aren’t picky)
5. spend more quality time together. As it is now, we only see each other 3 – 4 days per week due to Britton’s school schedule. During his placements, we are apart for an entire month. I would really like more of the time we do get to see each other to be spent better
6. continue with our once a month date nights
7. Learn to be more forgiving of ourselves.

Britton and I are both very hard on ourselves. It hurts me when he doesn’t recognize his (huge list of) accomplishments! And it hurts him when I put myself down.

This year we will forgive ourselves more, and enjoy our lives for what they are!