At Long Last, A Day Off

Between Sunday of last week and Sunday of this week, I will have worked 60 hours.

This includes two entirely drug-free and spontaneous deliveries, which is just about unheard-of in these parts, and which were delightful and powerful and exciting.

I've gotten a couple of lovely cards from my patients.

And Matt tells me I've gotten back a certain...glow...that I didn't have while I was in law school.

I'm so happy to be a nurse again. I don't have any doubts about leaving law school being the right thing...although I don't have any doubts that it was right to go in the first place. Though as far as which midwifery school to attend, I'm still completely stuck.

On a more mundane level, a few updates...Yesterday we tried whipping cream into butter and just ended up with a very frothy batch of cream. While this was an interesting development to the cats, you can't so much spread it on toast. The internet has been absolutely no help in assisting us to determine where we went wrong. It smells like butter, which is to say a little bit tangier than what you might want to cream coffee with, so I think we'll probably end up making it into waffles or pancakes.

Brought on by the Noodles With Lime-Peanut Sauce, new rule in our household is that pasta can only be eaten with chopsticks. Otherwise, we have a very difficult time getting an "8-serving box" to serve more than two people. This seems a little excessive, even to us...slowed down by chopsticks, we can just stretch it to four.

I've noticed I spend most of my days off chasing other people's ineptitude--today, this includes figuring out why a claim I submitted never went to my insurance and is now being returned to me past due (which required sitting on hold with the insurance company for fifteen minutes and the laboratory processing facility for twenty, and WHY DO I SPEND SO MUCH TIME ENTERING ALL OF MY PERSONAL INFORMATION ON THE TELEPHONE'S TOUCHPAD IF I WILL JUST BE ASKED TO REPEAT IT ANYWAY), as well as loudly complaining to T Mobile about our phone service (anybody who has talked to one of us in the past six months--you know of which I speak). When I have better things to do!

This weekend I think we're going to hunker down and make tamales. We don't have many other grand plans (though via Netflix, we have been loving spending our evenings watching episodes of The Cosby Show) since Sunday night I work overnight--which will be a nostalgic return to the days when I stumbled home as the sun came up and Matt would be waiting with breakfast as well as to, as he puts it, "listen to you yell about work."

I guess the former somewhat excuses the phrasing of the latter.