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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

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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?

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.

oh what a week.

28 Nov

I left for work on Thursday morning after a glorious 2 days off. We had freezing rain the night before (My mom called to warn me, knowing that I typically just ignore the weather in winter – what’s the point of checking it? Everyday the forecast may as well be “disgusting”. Even on those nice sunny days where the snow looks all sparkly… the sun makes the snow melt a bit, and it turns into that brown sludge…. I’m getting off topic.)

Back to the rain. It was freezing rain, and it sucked. Then came the regular snow. The kind that stays on the ground. The kind you wake up to in the morning. I kicked myself for procrastinating, and not putting my winter tires on the car when I should have.

So thanks to mom’s warning, I woke up earlier than usual to try get a head start on the way to work, figuring everyone would be driving slowly. Well, everyone WAS driving really slowly, but it didn’t matter that I got up early because the freezing rain had frozen my car door shut!

I called mom (Of course! who else do you call in these situations?) She came to pick me up and drive me to work. Mom drives a brand-spanking new Jeep with 4-Wheel drive. The snow was nothing to her.

As I hopped into the passenger seat, my pants ripped. Guys, they REALLY ripped. The crotch seam split in half!

So I ran back into the house to change my scrubs, 0nly to get to work and realize I was scheduled for an in-service and didn’t have to wear scrubs.

I arrived at 7:45am, apologizing for being late. Turns out, I didn’t need to be there until 9am.

What a day.

two smileys that describe your life right now

7 Nov

Good thing I’m not preggo because I’ve been downing coffee like it was going out of style. I’m sorry… did you miss my anti-caffeine blog post?? Woops.
Let me just say that my anti-caffeine blogpost can kiss my eh-ess-ess. mmmkay??

Hi Naive Stephanie of the Past – meet Working Overtime Nurse Stephanie of the Now.

Something I’ve learned about nurses on the job… If it’s caffeinated and it’s free? It could be plutonium, and we would drink it.

Ho-yeah. I don’t even LIKE coffee… but not only do I drink it now, I drink it like a CHAMP. Shitty work-vending-machine coffee that tastes like tar? Pffft! No problem! I’ll drink it black , steaming hot, and down it in 2 minutes – I will cringe, then spend the other 3 minutes lunch-break swearing about my burning esophagus and hunting down a potty so I can empty my about-to-burst bladder. Peeing has become a luxury for those who have time.

I know this isn’t a smiley (obviously) but google images tells me that there is no such thing as an “elderly smiley”or even an “old smiley”. Blarg.

I feel old these days. I discovered by first gray hair, but not on my scalp – in my eyebrow. Not only was it gray, it was twice as long as my other eyebrow hairs and coarse!! (much like the lovelies posted above.)

P.S – you should probably know that I only started drinking coffee on the 30th of October when my friend Ryan offered me a cup of his AMAZING fresh ground stuff – it was actually delicious… My talents and addictions progress quickly, I guess.

 

happy one month anniversary!

5 Jul

11 more months and we’ll be counting our anniversary in years.

We won’t have much time together today – but I woke up early and made him breakfast.

I married a sentimental man – when he  finally woke up,  he said “It’s the fifth!! Kissessss!”

Sadly, I work a 12-hr shift today and better get my butt in gear if I’m going to make it to work on time!

Teaching grade 9 boys, it’s all in the boobs.

19 Apr

Hilarity.

So today I helped my supervisor out by going to teach her husband’s grade 9 gym class about healthy hearts and blood pressure (fascinating, I know)

So I walk into the class in super cute hot pink heels, and a form-fitting-yet-still-professional gray dress…

And I realize it’s a class of all boys. 14-year-old boys.

As soon as I get in, I get cat-called by some obnoxious kid in the back. When the time came to teach them how to take a blood pressure (I thought it would be fun), I asked for a volunteer… when I instructed the volunteer to take off his sweater, the class started cheering, and some kid says “Stephanie, can I be your volunteer?”

Horny little bastards.

I don’t take it as much of a compliment either, because I’m pretty sure 14-year-old boys will get excited about any woman who is relatively young and has a half-decent pair of knockers. Heck, some boys that age get excited by the Sears catalogue or the pictures in National Geographic.

I also got to teach the boys some CPR – and hilarity ensued. Let’s just say I would NOT want a 14-year-old saving my life. They were TERRIBLE. One of them was SLAPPING the mannequin’s chest (and he wasn’t trying to goof off, he just sucked at CPR) and of course there was this dialogue

niner: So what do you do if it’s a girl who is unconscious
me: the same as you would for a boy
niner: So you put your hands on her titties and push?
me: You put your hand between the breasts, and start compressions
niner: sweeet!
me: *rolling my eyes*