Torrential Downpours and High Kicks

Before I go any further, I have to acknowledge every single one of you who reached out to me after my last post. Your responses were unbelievable! It was like a flash mob support group, and people came out of the woodwork to join in and contribute. Thank you for sharing your struggles with me and accepting my giant flaws with so much kindness. What an amazing thing to be understood, and to find out that we are not so very different even when we feel incredibly out of place. One insightful nurse friend explained her strategy like this: she works very hard at trying to love herself, because she truly loves the people around her. How beautiful is that?!  It’s the best response to the self loathing struggle I’ve ever heard, and I’ve made up my mind to follow in her wise foot steps. I plan to start by coming up with one nice thing to say about myself every single day. Today it’s the fantastic Michael Jackson elevator kick. You’ll have to stay tuned for that, my friends.

As you know, I’ve been traveling for my new job, so I’ve been on the road a good bit. I actually like taking road trips alone.  I get to blast ridiculous music and think for long stretches of time. It’s very therapeutic.  Lately I’ve seen some completely random things on my travels.  There was a giant wooden beach chair on a flatbed trailer. It was one of those obnoxiously large prop chairs that souvenir shops use to bait throngs of picture-happy tourists who need to be relieved of excess cash. I’m not judging, I promise! I am totally that tourist. I’ll stick my face in the caricature cut-out of Tarzan in a heartbeat. I’m just saying, it’s weird to see a giant chair rolling down the road beside me. What a time to be alive.

There are a surprising number of causes going around in the form of bumper stickers. Do you ever see something and think to yourself, “Oh man, I’m gonna Google that SO HARD.” Well, I do. Especially when I see a bumper sticker that reads: Cows not Condos. Say what? I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT MEANS!!! Are we talking about beef here? Or paving paradise? Or cage free cows that don’t approve of paving paradise with condos? Or maybe there’s a condo association that discriminates against lactose intolerant residents. That doesn’t even make sense. Holy Hipster! I have to find out what it all means. In that respect, I’d say it was a very effective bumper sticker. Vague, yes, but effective.

The weather has been completely bipolar lately. This week’s drive was full of sunshine and intense winds. It looked like everyone was texting and driving, but we were all just white knuckling our way through some seriously gusty winds. Last week the skies opened up and it rained within an inch of Niagara. I had to drive through the storm and I kept tilting my head back and lifting up my chin so I wouldn’t drown behind my windshield. It totally helps. You should try it. The rain was beautifully intense, but the roads were downright grisly.  You know the weather’s gotten real when people turn on their cautions just so you can see them through the torrents.

I have to say, given the circumstances, it could not have gone any better.  At one point, some Jackhole slammed on his breaks for no discernible reason.  There were at least twelve terrifying ways that could’ve ended.  Luckily, to my astonishment, all the cars surrounding Sir Jack of Holes, simultaneously recognized his jack holery, and slowed down in choreographed unison, blissfully ending the would-be tragedy without a single incident.  It went splendidly, and I mentally congratulated all those involved.  Not a single soul was lost, all airways were clearly intact and not one tourniquet was required.  Seriously, I’m kinda proud of us all. Way to be, fellow travelers. Way to be. Take note, Jack, sir.  THIS is how we do.

In other news, I bought a brand new pair of scrubs, and I may never wear real pants again. I’m anti-waistband anyhow, but that’s an entirely different post that I should probably save for Thanksgiving. Waistbands are judgmental and mean, but my fancy new scrubs are silky and stretchy.  It’s fantastic! They foster the kind of unhindered range of motion that makes walking feel like such a boring waste of flexibility. It gives me the urge to do acrobatics all the time. I may or may not have tried to do a Michael Jackson kick in the elevator earlier, but no one saw me and I’m not telling. Also, I nearly broke out a yoga pose while standing in line at a very public superstore. I didn’t actually do it that time, but between you and I, there were some serious power poses happening in my mind. For all my interested nursey types, they’re Smitten Scrubs. Even the name is drool worthy! Proceed with caution. Glittery acrobatics may ensue.

With Love and Awkward High Kicks,

The Glittery Nurse