The SoCal Blues

I have a sneaking suspicion the honeymoon is over.  Yes - It's quite possible the charm of my temporary move back to SoCal has already worn off.  I know it seems short-lived, but let's face it, my life was thrown into an uproar the minute I accepted this travel stint, and the chaos is finally catching up with me.  I toss and turn at night.  I'm (ever so slightly) moody and cranky.  I feel an internal state of funk beginning to build.  You'd think I'd be a little tougher, being the seasoned traveler I am.  It hasn't even been that long.  I've only been gone for two weeks, after all.  Besides, it's beautiful out here, I'm having fun catching up with friends, and I genuinely enjoy my job.

So why am I complaining?  Despite all of the upsides (and there are many), I can't but help miss my bed, my puppy, and my hubby.  I'm working on a serious case of homesickness right now, and am not sure how to cure what ails me.  Quitting is not an option (or really a desire).  And, thanks to our mixed-up schedules, neither is a quick visit home.  So, I'm just going to have to tough it out, waiting patiently for my angst to fade.

If memory serves me correctly, I felt this way the first months on my own in Australia.  I missed Mouse, and our life together, so acutely it hurt.  I pined for him in a way I didn't even know possible.  But, eventually the pain dissipated to a dull ache, until I was able to see the value of being on my own for a spell.  The same will happen here.  It won't be long before I'm so caught up in work and my own routine, that I won't even remember what all of my moping was about.  So, for now, I just need to power through these melancholy days and hold on to the simple things, like funny voice-mails and silly texts.  They may not bring me the creature-comforts of home, but they will help uplift my mood and sustain my soul.  (And that is more important than any memory-foam bed.)

The End of My Lazy Days

I guess this is it.  My summer of freedom is over.  Oh - I realize there is still a good month of summer left to enjoy, but it won't be the same.  It's finally time for me to get out of vacation mode and re-enter reality.  Today is the day my extended vacation ends.  Tonight, I go back to work.

I really can't complain.  Initially, I had only planned (and budgeted) for a month off.  The extra four weeks were just a bonus.  Quite honestly, I'm ready to get back to work at this point.  Between the move, the backpacking trip, and the new puppy (more on that later), our lives have been in a tailspin.  I'm ready to get back to some sort of normalcy.  I'm ready for a schedule, a sense of purpose, and, most importantly, a paycheck.  (Decorating a new house isn't cheap, after all.)

Of course, my excitement is laced with a teensy bit of the jitters.  Starting a new job always does this to me.  One would think that, after more than a year of working agency, I would be an old pro at this.  I should be tougher than nails.  I am accustomed to going to different hospitals, after all.  But working in Colorado is foreign territory for me.  I may have gone to nursing school here, but I never worked in a professional capacity.  And anyone who has ever worked as a traveler knows that each state plays by its own rules.  I know how to play the game in Nevada, California, even Australia, but who knows what I'm walking into now?

Just like any other position, I have to approach this with an open mind and a positive attitude.  I've been dreaming about getting back to Colorado for years, and this is just another part of my transition into life out here.  So, I'm going to rest up and do my best to mentally prepare myself for my first night back in the unit.  Wish me luck...

Lucky Me

One of the many beauties of registry nursing is the wide variety of people I get to meet.  On any given night, I have no idea who I'm going to work with, or the conversations we're going to strike up.  I'm constantly stepping out of my comfort zone and putting myself out there.  I'm always the newbie on the unit; the one who's being scrutinized and judged.  Even if I go to the same hospital two nights in a row, I might not work on the same floor, so I have to prove myself all over again.  If I let it, it could be exhausting.  Instead, I try to think of it as an adventure.  (And isn't that what my life is all about?)  Sure, there are times when I want to go about my patient care unbothered.  There are definitely nights when wish I could go unnoticed and fade away into the background.  But, more often than not, I run into the coolest people, and our chatter morphs into truly interesting conversations.  I've befriended some really stellar people out here that I would have never met, if not for my crazy job.  And, for that, I consider myself incredibly lucky.

Slept Away

By all accounts, this weekend was a bust.  Thanks to a crazy work week, I only had two days off, which were totally relinquished to sleep.  This happens from time to time, especially when I work an extra shift.  After staying up four nights in a row, despite sleeping well during the day, my body revolts and refuses to get out of bed.  It doesn't matter how many alarms I set, or great plans I've made; I'm overcome by the uncontrollable urge to slumber.  So this is exactly what I did.  All weekend.  What a waste!

What galls me most about my 48-hour sleep-fest is that the weather was absolutely gorgeous this weekend.  I meant to take advantage.  I really did.  I had plans.  I had notions of soaking up the rays on the beach, riding my cruiser on the bike path, and grabbing drinks with the girls on a sunny patio.  But, of course, none of that happened.  How could it?  I was too busy sleeping.  Ugh!

The only redeeming aspect of this entire weekend is that I woke up just long enough to squeeze in a 20-mile training run.  Even better, it felt surprisingly good.  (It better, with all of that sleep I got!)  I had spectacular ocean views and a stellar iPod playlist to keep my mind occupied.  My feet didn't hurt.  My legs were tired, but they held up nicely.  Don't get me wrong, I was exhausted by the end of the run, but I finished feeling strong and accomplished.  It's seven weeks and counting until the Big Sur International Marathon, and I'm feeling confident.  So, I guess this weekend wasn't a total bust, after all.

Back Together, Yet Still Apart

Mouse is out of town, again, and I’m left to mope around the apartment without him.  I know it cannot be helped; in his line of work, travel is inevitable.   He has to go to the auctions, because they certainly cannot come to him.  (And, in all fairness, I was the one out of town last week.)  Still, it doesn’t make me miss him any less.  Since I’ve been back, it feels as though work has taken over our lives.  We’ve both thrown ourselves back into our respective careers, and have seemingly become slaves to our jobs. 

It had to happen, I guess.  Even though I had a full-time job in Australia, we spent the better part of last year traveling.  That kind of lifestyle isn’t really sustainable, and we knew it couldn’t last forever.  So, now that we’re both stateside, life has become much less adventurous and much more practical.  And, for the most part, neither of us object.  Our careers are important, and we and recognize the necessity of putting in the time to succeed.  It’s just a little frustrating when our schedules require us to spend more time apart than together. 

More often than not, we feel like ships passing in the night.  Even if we both are in town, we count ourselves lucky to steal a few minutes together as my day is ending and his is beginning. Between my night shifts and his demanding schedule, it’s nearly impossible to spend much time together.  It can be a frustratingly lonely existence.  The irony of the whole situations is that I left Australia largely because I missed him.  But now that we’re living together again, I’m still missing him.  What a ridiculous situation.  It just doesn’t seem fair.