nothing...
I figured out something while staring at my cat who I swear is an old Norwegian man incarnate... I was thirsty. Okay, so maybe I figured out this fact by my dry mouth or the flaky skin, which happens when someone who drinks coffee like it's water. I would like to believe my cuddly Paris had something to do with this fantastic discovery.
I really want to write right now. It seems forced. So instead I'm writing in here, which is something never forced but flow-ing-ly-ish. I can't help but realize how much I've allowed trash to infiltrate my life. My every day habits have now incorporated celebrity gossip and wasting time with work. I like my line of work. Being a tech though has become so boring! I want to be a nurse now!
It's funny going to work and putting on a work behavior. Being my peers are 40-somethingish in a different stage of life as my own, it gives you a different perspective on things. I always wonder what these people are like outside of work. How they are all similar carbon copies of themselves. Married with kids. Complaining about their husbands and constantly talking about their mysterious children. There are a couple of people I like at work, most I wouldn't give a second thought about. There is someone who I have been strangely fond of recently. She always seemed quite plastic to me before. Always talking about her children, complaining about her husband, very tan in a fake way with over-dyed hair. Yet her annoying ways that seemed to rub me the wrong way no longer exist. Now I see someone... someone real. Someone who has to take care for her dying parents and autistic brother. Someone who comes to work and feels it to be more of a vacation from reality then anything else. Someone who is the caregiver of a family who is constantly enveloped in tragedy. Who only has her kids to hold onto because they are the only thing she sees as happy in her life. Her marriage is obviously very stale. From the comments she's made. Her husband obviously has treated her like shit in the past from a comment made recently consisting of he is "just now" being nice. Plus, this recent fondness has nothing to do with the moments of vulnerability I've seen in her.
A couple of occasions I've noticed her on the brink of unprofessional outbursts from challenging patients. In our workplace all family life is supposed to take the back burner, your needs are not the issue at work. You are so consumed with mending other people's problems not once are you expected to be human and have issues of your own. This woman is already under tumultuous stress at home, then has to come a perform a stressful job. A couple of times I've seen the frustrations of real life leak out onto the interactions with this fake life we make for people. That's all hospitals are. Fake nice. Fake caring, by most. Fake sympathy. Because when you allow it to become real is when the judgments, the opinions, the bonds happen we as health care employees are not supposed to let happen. I see this woman now and I only want to watch out for her. I find myself watching. Observing. Feeling for all the sadness she's experiencing. I find myself interested. I'm not interested in a lot of things. Especially when it comes to other peoples lives. On the most part I find most people uninteresting and boring. I find most individuals shallow and annoying.
I used to find this person as such. She still is. Ordinary in every way. For some odd reason though her ordinary her bore is no longer boring. Fascinating it is. Why? I don't know....
Nursing is such an interesting field. Perfect for someone like me. An observer. A thinker. Human behavior is something I face everyday. I'm so fascinated by all the people. Every room is a show. A display to be poked and studied.
This is probably very demented way of thinking. Although, pain, suffering, lose is all so intriguing. It's not boring. Maybe this is my downfall. This is my problem. Suffering is more appealing for the challenge it puts on people's character. Happiness is nice. It's something to desire. Happiness is fascinating, yet when in the brink of happiness is the anticipation of something bad. Happiness is not lasting, much like pain. Although, some may argue this statement. Nothing lasts.... pain, suffering, happiness, joy all find an end... at some point.
Now I've officially exhausted this post.
I really want to write right now. It seems forced. So instead I'm writing in here, which is something never forced but flow-ing-ly-ish. I can't help but realize how much I've allowed trash to infiltrate my life. My every day habits have now incorporated celebrity gossip and wasting time with work. I like my line of work. Being a tech though has become so boring! I want to be a nurse now!
It's funny going to work and putting on a work behavior. Being my peers are 40-somethingish in a different stage of life as my own, it gives you a different perspective on things. I always wonder what these people are like outside of work. How they are all similar carbon copies of themselves. Married with kids. Complaining about their husbands and constantly talking about their mysterious children. There are a couple of people I like at work, most I wouldn't give a second thought about. There is someone who I have been strangely fond of recently. She always seemed quite plastic to me before. Always talking about her children, complaining about her husband, very tan in a fake way with over-dyed hair. Yet her annoying ways that seemed to rub me the wrong way no longer exist. Now I see someone... someone real. Someone who has to take care for her dying parents and autistic brother. Someone who comes to work and feels it to be more of a vacation from reality then anything else. Someone who is the caregiver of a family who is constantly enveloped in tragedy. Who only has her kids to hold onto because they are the only thing she sees as happy in her life. Her marriage is obviously very stale. From the comments she's made. Her husband obviously has treated her like shit in the past from a comment made recently consisting of he is "just now" being nice. Plus, this recent fondness has nothing to do with the moments of vulnerability I've seen in her.
A couple of occasions I've noticed her on the brink of unprofessional outbursts from challenging patients. In our workplace all family life is supposed to take the back burner, your needs are not the issue at work. You are so consumed with mending other people's problems not once are you expected to be human and have issues of your own. This woman is already under tumultuous stress at home, then has to come a perform a stressful job. A couple of times I've seen the frustrations of real life leak out onto the interactions with this fake life we make for people. That's all hospitals are. Fake nice. Fake caring, by most. Fake sympathy. Because when you allow it to become real is when the judgments, the opinions, the bonds happen we as health care employees are not supposed to let happen. I see this woman now and I only want to watch out for her. I find myself watching. Observing. Feeling for all the sadness she's experiencing. I find myself interested. I'm not interested in a lot of things. Especially when it comes to other peoples lives. On the most part I find most people uninteresting and boring. I find most individuals shallow and annoying.
I used to find this person as such. She still is. Ordinary in every way. For some odd reason though her ordinary her bore is no longer boring. Fascinating it is. Why? I don't know....
Nursing is such an interesting field. Perfect for someone like me. An observer. A thinker. Human behavior is something I face everyday. I'm so fascinated by all the people. Every room is a show. A display to be poked and studied.
This is probably very demented way of thinking. Although, pain, suffering, lose is all so intriguing. It's not boring. Maybe this is my downfall. This is my problem. Suffering is more appealing for the challenge it puts on people's character. Happiness is nice. It's something to desire. Happiness is fascinating, yet when in the brink of happiness is the anticipation of something bad. Happiness is not lasting, much like pain. Although, some may argue this statement. Nothing lasts.... pain, suffering, happiness, joy all find an end... at some point.
Now I've officially exhausted this post.