Gizmo looks like an ovarian cyst on me right now
But that's neither here nor there.
I am frighteningly close to graduation. Like the FINAL graduation, the last one that happens, the one that actually signifies that I'm done with school and need to progress into the real world. I'm actually rather OK with that. You can only do so much graduating before it becomes sort of routine, and really I'm quite ready for a change. I finished my LAST day of my LAST practicum on Friday, and I'm still doing a happy dance about that. While I realize that I am by NO MEANS a perfect or all-knowledgeable clinician, I am sure that at this point in my career I don't need the degree of supervision/lack of acknowledgment/lackey-ness that came with this last practicum. Seriously, there were points when I wanted to say to my supervisors "I'm an intern, not a pledge" when they would assign me tasks that were based more on the fact that they didn't want to do them rather than it being an important learning experience for me. Whatevs. Once I have a real-world job I'll have a chance to stretch my wings as a clinician and take my creativity and knowledge to a new level. I'm actually wicked psyched--and surprisingly undaunted--by this prospect.
Speaking of jobs, I am highly hopeful that before noon tomorrow I will be getting a call with a job offer. I had a pretty smashing interview last week with the Athol-Royalston public school system that basically ended by my interviewer commenting that she just needed to "work out a few kinks" before I could be officially offered a job. One of those "kinks" is the small matter of finding me a supervisor...which is kind of a big deal. But I'm convinced that this job is my destiny for a variety of reasons, so I'm not too worried. I know that Athol is supposed to be one of those places that once you leave it you're probably not supposed to go back to, but I really enjoyed my time there (from 1986-1996) and I felt so comfortable at the interview I think it attests to how natural returning there for a job/career would be. Also, Athol isn't a rich community by any means--they cannot afford to be picky about who they hire for their therapy positions. While the fact that I'm the 2nd applicant for 2 job openings they had speaks of (a) how good my chances are of getting the job and (b) of how few people are actually willing to work there, it also means that by taking the job I could actually be doing a great service to the community. Yes I actually think this highly of myself as a clinician--but Athol deserves to have a clinician who will work hard, care for the kids, apply evidence-based practice, and otherwise do a kick-ass job at what she does...and hiring a lowly CFY who happens to have a 3.9 GPA and RAVING reviews from all her supervisors might be the way for everyone to win =)
Of course working in Athol would mean I have to/get to move out of the house. I'm thinking that Gardner would be the best location, seeing as it's (a) not Athol, (b) roughly equi-distant from Athol/Leominster (so I could still dog train...shut up), and (c) convenient to Joe's commute to Gardner/Keene for his 2 jobs. So yes, that last part does imply that Joe and I are looking to move in together. This of course has me all excited/freaked out/whatnot, since I've never been at "that" point in a relationship before. To be honest it seems like such a natural progression that there's a part of me that doesn't stop to think that it could possibly be anything but the right thing to do...but then the thinking part of me raises all the worry-like questions about the idea. The majority of the "What-ifs" are combated by wonderful things about Joe that truly make me even LOGICALLY think that this is a good idea...but of course then half of me always worries that my logic in that regard is faulty (erm...7 year relationship with the last few years based on rationalizations to myself). Gah. I know there's no "rule" for when is the right time in a relationship to start living together, but at the very least I don't think we qualify for any potential red flags for reasons not to. I don't know. Anyone have words of wisdom in this regard?
Speaking of wisdom, I will impart to you all my wisdom of last weekend: Wheelchairs are not meant for racing on rocky pavement. Should you choose to race your newly-acquired $10 flea-market-find wheelchair with your sister in it as you are in the parking lot, odds are likely that every spoke in the small front left wheel will simultaneously break, causing you to dump your sister onto the pavement and causing you to fly onto the back of the wheelchair, which since it's old and from the flea market is lacking the rubber stops on the jagged metal projections in the back and thus will allow the projections to jam themselves into both your shins and leave large, circular bruises for over a week. A word to the wise.
I am frighteningly close to graduation. Like the FINAL graduation, the last one that happens, the one that actually signifies that I'm done with school and need to progress into the real world. I'm actually rather OK with that. You can only do so much graduating before it becomes sort of routine, and really I'm quite ready for a change. I finished my LAST day of my LAST practicum on Friday, and I'm still doing a happy dance about that. While I realize that I am by NO MEANS a perfect or all-knowledgeable clinician, I am sure that at this point in my career I don't need the degree of supervision/lack of acknowledgment/lackey-ness that came with this last practicum. Seriously, there were points when I wanted to say to my supervisors "I'm an intern, not a pledge" when they would assign me tasks that were based more on the fact that they didn't want to do them rather than it being an important learning experience for me. Whatevs. Once I have a real-world job I'll have a chance to stretch my wings as a clinician and take my creativity and knowledge to a new level. I'm actually wicked psyched--and surprisingly undaunted--by this prospect.
Speaking of jobs, I am highly hopeful that before noon tomorrow I will be getting a call with a job offer. I had a pretty smashing interview last week with the Athol-Royalston public school system that basically ended by my interviewer commenting that she just needed to "work out a few kinks" before I could be officially offered a job. One of those "kinks" is the small matter of finding me a supervisor...which is kind of a big deal. But I'm convinced that this job is my destiny for a variety of reasons, so I'm not too worried. I know that Athol is supposed to be one of those places that once you leave it you're probably not supposed to go back to, but I really enjoyed my time there (from 1986-1996) and I felt so comfortable at the interview I think it attests to how natural returning there for a job/career would be. Also, Athol isn't a rich community by any means--they cannot afford to be picky about who they hire for their therapy positions. While the fact that I'm the 2nd applicant for 2 job openings they had speaks of (a) how good my chances are of getting the job and (b) of how few people are actually willing to work there, it also means that by taking the job I could actually be doing a great service to the community. Yes I actually think this highly of myself as a clinician--but Athol deserves to have a clinician who will work hard, care for the kids, apply evidence-based practice, and otherwise do a kick-ass job at what she does...and hiring a lowly CFY who happens to have a 3.9 GPA and RAVING reviews from all her supervisors might be the way for everyone to win =)
Of course working in Athol would mean I have to/get to move out of the house. I'm thinking that Gardner would be the best location, seeing as it's (a) not Athol, (b) roughly equi-distant from Athol/Leominster (so I could still dog train...shut up), and (c) convenient to Joe's commute to Gardner/Keene for his 2 jobs. So yes, that last part does imply that Joe and I are looking to move in together. This of course has me all excited/freaked out/whatnot, since I've never been at "that" point in a relationship before. To be honest it seems like such a natural progression that there's a part of me that doesn't stop to think that it could possibly be anything but the right thing to do...but then the thinking part of me raises all the worry-like questions about the idea. The majority of the "What-ifs" are combated by wonderful things about Joe that truly make me even LOGICALLY think that this is a good idea...but of course then half of me always worries that my logic in that regard is faulty (erm...7 year relationship with the last few years based on rationalizations to myself). Gah. I know there's no "rule" for when is the right time in a relationship to start living together, but at the very least I don't think we qualify for any potential red flags for reasons not to. I don't know. Anyone have words of wisdom in this regard?
Speaking of wisdom, I will impart to you all my wisdom of last weekend: Wheelchairs are not meant for racing on rocky pavement. Should you choose to race your newly-acquired $10 flea-market-find wheelchair with your sister in it as you are in the parking lot, odds are likely that every spoke in the small front left wheel will simultaneously break, causing you to dump your sister onto the pavement and causing you to fly onto the back of the wheelchair, which since it's old and from the flea market is lacking the rubber stops on the jagged metal projections in the back and thus will allow the projections to jam themselves into both your shins and leave large, circular bruises for over a week. A word to the wise.