This Is It.
If anyone out there ever needed any kind of reinforcement for the notion that it's possible to do nine months of study/assignments in less than four weeks... HERE I STAND BEFORE YOU, MOTHERFUCKERS.
Yes. That's right. By 3pm today, I will be en route to my place of work with the last book of reflective journal entries requiring signatures. I've kissed those five clusters of written, practical and workplace observation tasks RIGHT IN THE ASSCRACK. I wrote longhand for eleven straight hours on my last nightshift. The cramp in my hand was epic. My fingers resembled the gnarled, knotted branches of a twisted, long-dead tree.
It's going to be difficult to find a senior officer who has the time to skim my entries and sign off a forty-page journal, but I've been the floating turd of the newbies who has worked in every unit known to mankind, so maybe I can sprinkle the love around and not have everyone hate me by lockdown.
First I have to shower and sit down and re-collate the mess of reports, checklists, assignments and plans I have accumulated. Possibly find out I've overlooked something vital and have a breakdown. Right now my folder looks like a claymore has gone off in it.
My brain is similarly shellshocked.
But I'm gonna make the deadline. With any luck, I can hand this sucker in before I leave the centre today. *\o/*
Yes. That's right. By 3pm today, I will be en route to my place of work with the last book of reflective journal entries requiring signatures. I've kissed those five clusters of written, practical and workplace observation tasks RIGHT IN THE ASSCRACK. I wrote longhand for eleven straight hours on my last nightshift. The cramp in my hand was epic. My fingers resembled the gnarled, knotted branches of a twisted, long-dead tree.
It's going to be difficult to find a senior officer who has the time to skim my entries and sign off a forty-page journal, but I've been the floating turd of the newbies who has worked in every unit known to mankind, so maybe I can sprinkle the love around and not have everyone hate me by lockdown.
First I have to shower and sit down and re-collate the mess of reports, checklists, assignments and plans I have accumulated. Possibly find out I've overlooked something vital and have a breakdown. Right now my folder looks like a claymore has gone off in it.
My brain is similarly shellshocked.
But I'm gonna make the deadline. With any luck, I can hand this sucker in before I leave the centre today. *\o/*