Thoughts On...

Let’s Talk Boys

Currently: sitting in a coffee shop, listening to music in my headphones, stealing glances at a very cute boy sitting two tables away from me. The sun is shining through the window (a miracle in this town). It’s chilly outside but hot inside the shop, and luckily I had a t-shirt under my sweater. I just got my hair done so I keep messing with it. I don’t feel as cute without my sweater on, but it’s SO HOT IN HERE it’s ridiculous, the boss must think it’s summertime. Sweetie, this is upstate NY, I hear summer doesn’t begin until JUNE.

But I digress. Besides being forced to undress, I’ve taken off my glasses, and now I can’t see anything past my computer screen, but it’s fine, I feel cuter and my head hurts less now, and if I look in the boys direction and he catches me, I can honestly not notice his eyes because everything further than two feet away is blurry.

I’m mouthing the words of every song I’m listen to in an attempt to seem quirky and interesting, half hoping this delicious looking stranger will care enough to come ask me what I’m listening to, and we’ll strike up a genuine conversation. Oh, how I wish this was a bar so I could down an amaretto sour and build up the courage to just say hello! What’s the worst that could happen, right?

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Same Dream, New Plan

It has occured to me that I’m going to have to change my 5-year plan.

This fact stresses me out immensely, and when I first found out the next five years would not go as I expected, I had a mini-panic attack. Usually, it’s a couple years down the line that something happens and I have to change my trajectory for the next half-decade, but it happened the week I moved in, and it was a bit of a shock.


I started writing this blog post back in September.

A lot has changed since then.

I’ve been meaning to write again for months now, but I’ve had so much going on, and I’ve been trying to live in the moment. I’m really not even sure where to start, but I suppose I should update you from where I left off. Continue reading

Thoughts On...


Yesterday, I felt like I wanted to quit.

I had a meeting with my manager after a long shift, where we reviewed the feedback she’d received about my progress at work. While there were some good things, the negative comments shocked me. People mentioned things that I never imagined would end up in a review of my competency as a nurse of this unit. Taken aback, I accepted what I read, and now I have 3 weeks to prove to the managers that I know how to do my job, and I can do it safely.

Last week, I received an official notice in the mail about the fact that I failed a class last semester and am now on probation. I, of course, don’t even really know what that means, because this kind of thing does not happen to me (which I have discussed with my therapist many times). Apparently I must meet with an advisor twice per semester and keep my grades up in order to remain in the program and get financial aid.

So when I finally left work at 1am this morning, I wanted to quit. I got home, lay on my couch, and looked up other, better, schools in other, less miserable (weather-wise) places, and started planning for the possibility of transferring elsewhere. I’ve made friends here, I live in a great area and my apartment is a dream, but I don’t feel welcome at work or at school. I don’t know, I guess I just don’t feel like I fit in, like I’m not cut out for this northern culture and six months of winter. Maybe this hospital is too big, maybe this university is not the school that will give me the doctoral degree I so desire. Maybe, like in undergrad, I’ve got to move around, go to multiple schools in multiple places.

I knew things would not go as I planned them, I’ve learned that they never do, but I did not think that after 5 months, I would be on both academic and work-related probation. I feel like a criminal, like I’ve let myself down, like I’m not good enough for any of this, like I should be somewhere else. But why would God have me go through all the trouble of moving here just to have me move again after only a year? (I would have to stay until my lease is up, I think. I have to at least attempt to do well this semester.)

I have a lot of questions and concerns that no one can answer for me. I don’t even feel comfortable divulging this to my friends here or my best friends back home, although I know they will support and encourage me.  They will tell me not to give up, and tell me that I am not alone, and remind me why I should not quit. They will tell me I am capable and that I have struggled before, and that I always come out on top. My therapist would tell me to do my best and not worry about problems that I can do nothing about and that are not affecting my life today, right at this moment.

I’m not a quitter, but I don’t know what to do. I should probably pray about it.

– E ❤


Catch Flights, Not Feelings

It is currently almost midnight on January 12th, 2019. I am on a Greyhound bus on my way back to home to my apartment in upstate New York. I flew into an airport an hour away to save some money and didn’t want to pay an Uber to take me that far. So here I am, on a bus for the first time since I was a kid. I used to travel Greyhound to Canada all the time. They’ve really upgraded since then.


I realize that I have not gone longer than 2 months without leaving my new place of residence since I moved there. As it stands, I will be leaving again during spring break in March, and probably again in May at the end of the spring semester. I’m not sure how I feel about that. It’s not like I hate where I live. The winter is brutal, however, and I will never feel bad about leaving as many times as possible to seek warmer weather. I just spent the past three days in south Florida, soaking up sunshine and vitamin D, laying on the beach and exploring the local art scene, and I had the time of my life. I was, what the youth call, living my best life for the short time that I could. I didn’t want to waste a single minute. The weather was absolutely beautiful, and I had a blast with my younger cousin, as usual. She’s my favorite. (Don’t tell my other 49 cousins. I jest, I probably have more than that.)

But I digress.

I truly enjoyed myself. Even though the flight back was expensive, I have to work tomorrow, and I start school on Thursday, it was absolutely worth it. It’s as close to a spontaneous trip to the beach that I’ve had so far in life, and I loved every second of it (and I’m considering do it more often…). I was legitimately happy. I let myself relax. My soul feels rejuvenated. I feel bolder, more grounded, and more prepared to take on this year. Continue reading

Fingers Crossed

“New Year, New Me.”

Well would you look at that. It’s over. I survived 2018.

I don’t usually say “new year, new me” at the beginning of a new year, but this year I want it to be true — I want to become a new and improved version of myself. Now, I don’t plan on changing who I am as a person, but there are certain qualities I possess that could definitely use an update.

I’m in the mood to kick 2019’s ass, essentially.

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Thoughts On...


Two weeks ago, grades went up for my final exam. I knew I needed an 83% to barely pass, but pass, the class. Yesterday, my therapist made me check my grade.

Long story short, I did not pass the class.

Now, I did not expect to do well enough on the final to pass the class, because I did not have enough time to relearn a semester’s worth of material for a cumulative final in the second most challenging class I’ve ever had to take. But I have yet to receive an email from my advisors telling me I need to retake it. I’m not even sure how or when I’ll have time to do that. There’s so much information, my brain had no time to digest it all. This was the worst time to take such a heavy class, but that’s the schedule. I’m extremely frustrated, and anxious, and I don’t want to tell anyone. I hate feeling sorry for myself, but I do! I’ve never failed a class in my entire life. I don’t fail. It’s not me.

But here I am. A failure. Continue reading

Half Empty

Test Anxiety

I’m slowly realizing that it is going to take a whole entire legitimate miracle for me to pass this class.

It’s almost midnight on a Wednesday. I’m in bed, procrastinating sleep. I need to be awake at 5am tomorrow. I was up at 5am this morning. I was supposed to study all evening. I ended up taking a two hour nap and wasting time until 10pm doing nothing productive outside of eating.

I’m imagining seeing my final test grade, having calculated that I need at least an 83% to pass the class, and breaking down in tears in the middle of the silent computer lab because I got a 79%, or worse.

I’m not ready for this exam. I have such a long day tomorrow, and I’m still not asleep. I have a choir concert Friday. I shouldn’t even go, I should study. But I’ll go, because I committed. I have to work for 12 hours on Saturday. I should call out, but I’m in orientation, and that looks bad. I’m off Sunday. All I have is Sunday. I have a date that night so that I don’t go to bed distraught. Monday morning, back at work. I have to convince myself to study when I get home from work when all I want to do is sleep. Tuesday, I have to be up at work, again, and then run to class for an exam right after I clock out. I have to make sure I have time to eat, that I get there on time, that I studied enough the night before. I failed at that tonight, so who knows?

I just want to give up. I’m tired of being so tired all the damn time. I just want it to be over. I haven’t been able to truly rest in six months. I need to pass this test but it seems impossible. I don’t know what I’ll do if I fail. I’ve never failed a class before. The last time I came this close, I didn’t have a full time job in the way. I don’t know if I can do this.