When the going gets tough...

It has been around 5 months since my last post and so much has changed!!

I was given full time status at work (yaaaaayyyy) and was placed on a night shift (ummmm whaaaat?). It took me almost two months, but my body has finally adjusted to being up all night. As I write this, my partner is snoozing in the drivers seat as we post, and I am wide awake listening to the chaos that is the south end dispatch. 

At the beginning of December, I loved from the north San Diego area to east Murrieta. That was quite a change. It took several weeks to get over the homesick feeling. Living with 4 other people (all guys, too!) has been a very interesting experience, but I actually really enjoy it. There is almost always someone home if I want to be social but at the same time if I'm in my room they give me my space. Though I do miss being close to my family and friends, I feel this move was a good decision. 

Now, the current struggle is making ends meet and continuing to improve myself. 2013 was filled with growth and learning and I expect no less from 2014. 

For the love of the game:

Over the last few weeks, I've had the pleasure of working with many different people. This is one reason I love being part time! I love meeting my workers and spending time to get to know them.

That being said, occasionally you run into people who obviously hate their jobs. And when I say obvious, I mean OBVIOUS. To the point where I have to stop myself from asking them why they're even here.

Here's the deal... I love my job. I enjoy being at work. I enjoy (most of) my coworkers. We all have bad days. We have those calls or those crews that just rub us the wrong way and make us Cranky McCranky pants. But I'm going to say that 80% of the time, I thoroughly enjoy my job.

I do not enjoy working with people who do not enjoy their job. They stress me out and take all the fun out of what we do! But when you find those people that love their job, you can tell. It shows in their faces, it's in their tone of voice.

I consider it a great compliment when my coworkers tell me how much they enjoy working with me or how happy I seem. I actually had a fire medic tell me yesterday on a call that he had yet to meet an AMR medic as happy as I was. While I was stoked on the compliment, it bummed me out that people don't love this as much as I do!

Yesterday was a ridiculously hot and humid day (there was actually a flash flood that shut down several roads to several hospitals... That made life extremely difficult!! What should've been a 5 min drive took an hour!). The power went out in multiple neighborhoods (which made our last call of the night interesting, to say the least), the AC went out in some hospitals... Sure there were complaints, but luckily the crews at the hospital had good attitudes. It kept an already sticky situation (get it??? GET IT?????) from becoming worse.

Bill Watterson drew a wonderful comic about this kind of thing... You may have seen it. If you haven't, click here.

Attitude is everything. And when you're doing what you love, it doesn't feel like work so much as fulfillment of a calling. So do what you love!! Find a way to thrive on it or live more humbly. There is beauty in simplicity and joy in working hard.

Let's Talk About: Faith

And by faith, I mean mine specifically. And believe me, it gets pretty darn cheeserific towards the end...

*The Fine Print*: I'm sorry if what I say as this blog continues offends anyone (actually... I'm not that sorry... It's my blog, I say what I want!! :P), but this is not only what I believe, it's what I'm going through right now. I don't care what you believe. I'm not here to beat you over the head with a bible and shove Jesus down your throat. This blog is extremely relevant to my life :) Plus, blogging is soothing. It's almost like a journal entry. A little bit of self therapizing, if you will. :)

But first.... STATISTICS!

According to wikipedia (THE most CREDIBLE website on the planet), approximately 78.4% of Americans identify themselves as Christians (I believe this number includes Catholicism)...

I call myself a Christian... But what does that mean?

Merriam-Webster (even more credible than wikipedia... Incredible, I know...) says a Christian is "one who professes belief in the teachings of Jesus Christ." Well. If we go by that definition, I guess I can actually believe that 3/4 of the nation are Christians.

But professing belief in something and actually following are completely different, right?

Alright. Enough statistics, definitions and random questions... I'd like to get on to the part where I talk about why I'm writing about faith. :)

This new job has tested me in ways I've never been tested. Mentally and emotionally (and sometimes physically), I'm drained.

I've always been relatively self-sufficient. I prefer to do things myself because history has proven I'm the only one I can count on. For a long time I got along doing it all myself.

And then I went to medic school. Actually, my whole EMS career has been divinely orchestrated. Doors were opened that would never have opened on their own. And that was when I realized that if I kept trying to go it alone, I would never make it.

So I started praying. I started talking to God. I started thanking Him for the good things, asking for help with the tough things. There were many, many other things going on during medic school that made it a trying time. I had a TON of anxiety. A ton. I'm pretty sure that's what drove my ex away. (Let's be honest, as awesome as I am now, I was a WRECK during school).

But as soon as I finished school, I stopped talking to God. I stopped praying, stopped doing my devotions. Stopped listening for Him. I mean, every now and then I'd have a crisis and I'd run to Him, but that's not much of a relationship.

The past month or so, I've been asking Him for help. There have been a few days where I literally did not stop praying (those days my prayers went like "Please, please, please let me survive this."). I pray in an effort to get rid of the anxiety.

It's paralyzing, by the way. Anxiety, that is. People feel it differently and there are different levels of anxiety. There were several times driving to work that I was pretty sure I was going to throw up. And sometimes I feel my chest get really tight and it feels like I can't breathe. (that being said, I've never called 911 for this feeling... unlike many of my patients...). I did call my mom though. :) She can usually talk me off my "ledge of panic".

Anyways, I digress.

 The point of this blog is that I have tried again and again to do it all myself and I am failing. Not only am I failing, but I am miserable in the process. As difficult as it is to "let go and let God" (nice little Christian cliche for you), the peace I feel when I do makes it worth it.

Having said that, I must mention the beauty of grace. I cannot count how many times I've messed up. I make poor decisions (consciously!), do dumb things, say the wrong thing, ignore the right thing, do the wrong thing.

Yet I am not loved any less. I am not any less valuable because of my mistakes. THAT is amazing. This is why a relationship with God is much more important to me than religion. Religion is rules. Religion is run by righteous hypocrites. Relationship is based in loved. Relationship allows for mistakes because in relationship there is forgiveness.

(Friends, I highly recommend you read The Shack if you haven't already. It's not everyone's cup of tea, but it's one of my favorite books and it provides some new perspective.)

Sin is sin. But God's love is bigger than my sin.

So as I head into my work week tomorrow, I will remember that I am not alone. Because I know I am not strong enough to do this on my own. It isn't my strength that will get me through this. Sometimes, He has to carry me, just like the Footprints poem.

I now must go study some more, then go to bed (that has become my life... work, sleep, gym, study, sleep, work...).

My dad always said: attitude determines altitude.

Apparently, the last blog I wrote was May 13th!! I think it's time for an update.

EVOC training went well and I learned a lot. Since then, I've started my field training. Let me just say, I knew it would be tough to get back in the game (it had been a year since I'd run any calls or been in an ambulance), but I don't think I realized just how tough.

Running calls is like doing math. It takes practice to be good at it. And I definitely had not been practicing! The first 3 shifts my FTO had to remind me this wasn't my internship, I wasn't an intern and I needed to step up my game.

My shift on Monday was the shift from hell. Well, actually, the shift was fine. It was the first call that we ran that day that set my attitude for the rest of the day and it wasn't a good one! I froze up and my FTO had to step in and run the call. This is not a good thing. At this point, she shouldn't be stepping in at all. She reminded me after this call that at the end of these training sessions, she and I will be coworkers, on the same level, who are supposed to be like minded in our patient care decisions. And she's right!

We had another talk after our shift yesterday (which went SO much better), we both acknowledged that I have no experience and she has 9+ years of it. She understands that because of that, I won't handle every call like she would. But I need to be extra thorough in my assessments (dot all my i's, cross all my t's), until I get some experience and develop a "gut feeling". Because I'm too new to have a gut feeling, right now, it has to be textbook, every single time.

Now, I'm not saying that as paramedics we don't fully care for and assess every patient. I'm saying that most medics with experience can tell how serious something is. A newbie like me cannot.

So that's what I've been up to these past few weeks! AMR classroom and field training.

Now that I'm off for a few days, I'll be working my second job (still nannying!), studying and enjoying friendship. :)

I can honestly say I'm not really looking forward to going back to work, but that's only because it makes me uncomfortable. But the only way to grow and improve is to get uncomfortable!

The recipe for success in this situation is to have an open, willingness to learn, be humble and have a good attitude. However simple this may be, it is much easier said than done!!

So, here's to at least a year of being uncomfortable!

Open letter from Kelly Grayson

I didn't write this, but I read it and fell in love with it! I saw it in a post by EMT/Paramedic on Facebook.

 "Recently, I was asked by a colleague to write an introduction letter for her EMT class. I had read David Givot's excellent commencement speech for paramedic graduates, and I thought long and hard about what I wish someone had said to me on my first day of EMT class, before I even embarked on this career path. This is my answer.

Welcome to the profession whose entry-level practitioners — you, in a few months — rank 4th from the bottom in the Bureau of Labor Statistics salary rankings. The only people paid less than you are pre-school teachers, dishwashers and meatpackers. The guy riding on the back of the garbage truck, or holding a sign at a highway construction zone, makes more money than your EMT instructor. Likely, a lot more.

And none of those people are required to make life-or-death decisions. You will.

It is a profession where the line-of-duty death rate is comparable to firefighters and police officers. For those of you who aspire to flight paramedic status, that particular niche is by far the most dangerous profession in America — ahead of loggers, miners, and Alaska crab fisherman.

It is a profession whose divorce, suicide and substance abuse rates soar far higher than the general population. The average career expectancy of an EMT is five years.

Five years.

Some of you will go on to jobs in nursing or other healthcare fields. Those of you that don't move on to nursing or PA school will leave EMS with a career-ending back injury, or leave EMS healthy but not whole; jaded and cynical, your idealism burned away in the furnace-like reality of our profession, your faith in the innate goodness of man gone like so much ash and smoke up the chimney.

You'll be disrespected
You will be disrespected by patients and bystanders who don't know any better, and belittled by doctors and nurses who should. And many of you will endure the abuse for free labor, donating your services as volunteers.

So why do I tell you this? Well, they call it informed consent, a concept you'll learn about in the first few chapters of that EMT textbook you're carrying. Before you agree to the abuse you're about to suffer, it's only fair that you know what you're getting into.

And it's not what you think.

You will sift through broken glass and twisted metal, wade through urine and feces and vomit, weather heaping torrents of verbal abuse from the people you're trying to help, all for the prospect of a few dollars on payday, and perhaps…just perhaps…a show of gratitude now and again.

I'm here to tell you that what you've been promised is a lie, if only a little white one. When you're green and idealistic, the romance and thrill of EMS is powerful. All of us were adrenaline junkies at some point. Plus, there's a decent chance it might even get you laid. What's not to like?

You won't save that many lives
But you will soon discover the hidden truth, the one that drives most people out of our profession:

We don't save that many lives.

Lifesaving may be what we train for, but the opportunity to actually save someone comes all too rarely, and when it does present itself, the outcome depends more upon luck and timing than our skills. In my career, I've had my share of code saves. Some of them even made it out of the hospital alive. Others hung on just long enough for their families to tell them goodbye. I've made the critical diagnosis, gotten the tough airway, turned around the crashing asthmatic, and stabilized the shocky gangbanger with multiple unnatural holes in his person. I've needled chests, paced, defibrillated, and cardioverted, and given countless drugs.

But, other than a handful of exceptions, I can't state with any certainty that my actions were the difference between life and death. In that handful of exceptions, all but one or two were saved simply by applying the techniques that any John Q. Citizen with a basic first aid course could have done. Ask your instructor if you don't believe it's true. They'll tell you the same thing.

The reality of the profession
The reality of your profession isn't exciting rescues and cardiac arrest resuscitations twice a shift. Your reality will be dialysis transfers and people who can't poop. It will be toothaches at 3:00 am, and you'll have to maneuver your stretcher around five parked cars to get to the front door, and weave your way through five able-bodied drivers to get to the patient with a complaint so minor you can't believe they called 911 for it.

So why, if you're not going to save all that many lives, should you even bother?

You should bother because EMS is a calling. Even when you leave EMS, it never really leaves you. It's what Henry David Thoreau meant when he said, "Do what you love. Know your own bone; gnaw at it, bury it, unearth it, and gnaw it still."

You should bother because, even if we're not saving lives, what we do matters. It matters in ways unnoticed by us, to people you may not even remember tomorrow.

You should bother, because EMTs are privileged to play in life's great game. Too many unlucky people watch the action thunder by, stuck at a desk, or watching it on television at home.

You should bother, because it's the little things that matter. Most of your patients are ignorant of your skills. Few of them understand the technology you wielded so expertly. But they'll remember the smile you gave them, or the way you tucked the blanket in to ward away winter's chill, or the way you stood in the rain, getting drenched as you held the umbrella over them as your partner loaded them in the rig. They'll remember calm competence, and gentle speech.

They'll remember the joke you made to lighten the tension. They'll remember those things and more, and they'll remember your face long after you've forgotten theirs.

You'll be remembered
They'll remember you because, even though they were just another call to you, you were a major player in a defining event in their lives. They'll come up to you, years after the fact, and say, "I remember you. You take care of me when I had my heart attack."

And likely all you did was apply oxygen and take them to the hospital. Maybe you helped them with another dose of nitro or encouraged them to take an aspirin — really nothing they couldn't have done themselves. But you're the one they remembered, and you're the one they thanked.

You should bother, because in the tapestry of human existence, you get to contribute your own unique stitch. You get to make your mark in ways that cannot be quantified on a spreadsheet or a profit and loss statement. Not everyone gets to touch the life of another, but EMTs do.

You should bother, because when people are at their most vulnerable, they will invite you into their homes and tell you things they won't even tell their priest. And they'll expect you to make it better somehow. I'm not sure you understand now how profound an honor that is, but hopefully one day you will.

The question is, can you be worthy of that honor?

If you think so, then welcome to EMS. Do us proud.

-Kelly Grayson"

Field of Dreams:

Random thought:

You know that line from the Field of Dreams "If you build it they will come"? Well that's kind of how I feel about life, except for me it goes "If you're busy, everyone you know will ask you to do something and you'll have to say no." It kind of sucks. I'm worried that if I keep saying no, they'll stop asking.

It has been brought to my attention recently by both the president of my fan club (bahahaha, Jacks) and an avid reader of mine (bahahaha, Buhrian) that I have fallen behind lately with my blogging. My apologies! Things have been pretty crazy these days. I don't even know what I last wrote about. Maybe I should read my own blog.

Let's see... Where to start.

Looks like I'll be going to the fire academy first, followed by paramedic school. That changes things, shifts some priorities.

I realized the other day that I've become very overcomplacent. I'm far too comfortable with where I am in my "career". I do not want to work BLS for much longer. IT has it's place in the ladder to my career goals, but it is merely a step. I'm trying to get my head back into the game. I need to start studying again, start working out harder. I got into medic prep, so starting in January I will be back to my studying ways.

I also realized that I really need to look into becoming a reserve firefighter and/or volunteering. With this realization came a second realization that I am absolutely scared to death of doing either or both of those things. But seeing as how I'm determined not to live my life out of fear, I need to face these fears head on. Scary! Luckily, working at Care has given me a lot of great people to talk to get advice from regarding the best way to reach my goals. Good ol' Care Bears.

I have a new roommate moving in in a little over a week. Should be interesting. I've never lived with someone who hasn't been family. All I ask is he pay his rent on time, clean up after himself, be quiet at night, don't touch my food and be sane. Fingers crossed this all works out.

As for right now, I start another glorious week of BLS tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep.

How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

I went to the gym today and remembered that I was supposed to weigh myself before working out (I got this whole lecture from my trainer on when to weigh yourself and how many days from your cheat day to do this and that and yadda yadda yadda). So I hop off the step mill and onto the scale. WTF?! I GAINED 2 pounds??? All the calorie counting and working out has done NOTHING? I get off the scale and walk back over to the step mill. At this point, I can't figure out if I want to cry or simply rage. I settle for mind numbing stair climbing.

My legs start to burn at the 15 minute mark so I head over to the elliptical. That's when I start thinking about those 2 pounds. 2 pounds. 2 pounds. 2 pounds. It loops in my mind as I sweat it out. I flag down the GTM and tell him about those 2 pounds. He tells me not to worry about them, saying I look like I'm losing inches which is more important than weight. Another trainer makes a sarcastic remark which successfully puts things into perspective and makes me laugh (2 birds with one stone). So I finish my workout feeling a little bit better.

I leave the gym and head over to Alice's. As I'm driving, I let my mind wander. I think about all the fun things I've missed out on because I'm constantly working or studying or being responsible (Example: "No, I can't stay out late because I have work/school/responsibilities that night/the next morning".). I could have gone to the beach today. I could have hung out last night with a friend who was leaving to go back to Seattle who I won't see for several months. But no. I had work.

I just need a moment to rant. I'm so over working. I really am. I'm not even doing what I really want to do, either. I'm doing something I'm good at so I can have money to support myself, money to reach my goals. I have this dream and I want it so bad I can see it, touch it. But I'm so sick of having no life outside of that dream.

Is there such a thing as being too driven or too goal oriented? Like, is there a point at which it becomes too much?

I guess it depends on the goal, right?

I mean, I've never done things the easy way. I could have been a teacher. I had myself convinced that's what I wanted to be for a while. But no. 3 years of college and I switch majors. I switch from Liberal Studies to Kinesiology. And then I move from Kinesiology to Firefighter Paramedic. No, I didn't take the easy way out.

I will always remember my dad telling me to choose to do something I love. "If you are doing something you love, it won't feel like work," he'd say. And it's true. So is the drive worth it? Is it worth missing out on the cliched experiences the majority of those in their 20's go through?

That's what I was asking myself on the drive from Escondido to Oceanside. For a little bit, I had even begun to plan my pity party for this evening. It involved crying and some form or another of Dane Cooks "I did my best" bit. However, upon arrival at Alice's, I had to push the pity party back. I had work to do, per usual.

That brings us to this current moment. I'm lying on the bed in the room I stay in ("my" room... for the weekend, at least) writing this blog. Looking back over my past blogs, they all seem to have a common thought process. It starts out with me whining about something that happened, then I move on to whining about how much my life sucks, then I move on to talking about how badly I want to be a FireMedic. It usually ends with me making a statement about how lucky/grateful/blessed I am. Why can't I just skip all the melodrama and just be lucky/grateful/blessed?

Eh, who knows. I suppose it's OK to have these moments as long as I don't let them overwhelm me and take over.

This is not forever. This is not permanent. Sure I don't get to see my friends or family as often as I'd like. Sure I can't afford to take road trips or vacations. Sure I feel like I am one of the most boring people you will ever meet. But this is not forever. This is not permanent.


I think it's time to accept my fate. I work hard. I like to go to bed early. I like to wake up early. I like to workout and be pushed past my limit. I like being responsible. I don't know why I start to wonder about the other life I could have led when it's obvious this is the one I was meant to live.

On another note, exciting news! My brother and I found an apartment! We move in a week! I also applied to several ambulance companies. Now the waiting game begins. Hopefully I'll be working as an EMT in the next month or so. *fingers crossed*

Perhaps it's time to end this long, run-on sentence of a blog. I often wonder how much sense I actually make in this thing. Probably not much. But that's OK. At least my head is clear. It's time to go back to taking it one day at a time. Or even one hour at a time. And at this time, I am looking forward to sleep. Yay for sleep!

It's Been A While:

I've been noticing lately that I'm becoming bitter. I'm too young to be bitter!!!

I'm hoping to blame said bitterness on the fact that I'm overwhelmed and am a tad burned out.

I have been trying really, really hard to focus on the positive things in my life and to count my blessings. I have it so good!

But then I get run down and exhausted and all I want to do is throw myself a pity party.

So I'm going to vent a little bit. Pardon the rant that is about to occur.

I would love, love, love to be able to go on vacations. I would love to travel. I would love to go out every weekend. I would love to do all the fun things people my age are supposed to be doing.

But, I can't.

It's *that* simple.

Between work and school, I just don't have the time. It bums me out every time I have to tell one of my friends "no, I can't hang out with you" or "no, I can't do a road trip/vacation with you". I'm so worried that someday (and someday soon), they will stop asking.

It's hard to explain how badly I want to become a Firefighter Paramedic. It's like I'd been wandering around for 21 years. Lost. I was lost. And suddenly, it all makes sense. It's like, I don't know, coming home, as cheesy as that sounds. I've always been really good with kids, but just being good at something isn't a good enough reason to revolve my future around it. But FireMedic, now that's something I can build on, revolve around, aim for.

I've been spending a lot of time at the gym lately. Too much, apparently, as my knees have been bothering me. I talked to the GTM and he told me, basically, to slow it the eff down. My trainer gave me some specific stretches and the GWM showed me how to foam roll my legs to loosen up the muscles around my knee. Foam rolling also helps elongate the muscles, creating a longer, leaner look (which is an excellent thing).

It really bums me out that I can't work out like I've been working out. In the past week, I've gone from burning about 700 calories a workout to burning around 300 a work out. That's a pretty significant drop. Unfortunately, it means I'm going to have to really watch what I'm eating (which I hate doing and have never really been good at). I've been acting really dramatic about it lately, too. My trainer pointed out to me today "It's not like you tore your ACL." He's right. A week of rest and improving my form will more than likely solve the problem.

It's time to cut the shit. No more drama. No more games. Straight up. This isn't high school. It's time to grow the eff up. Roll with the punches and deal with it.

So that's the new game plan. Less complaining, less dramatic outbursts. More dealing with it, more making the best out of what you've got.

“Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.” ― Theodore Roosevelt

WORD.

I need to find an ambulance company, and I need to find one now:

I believe the title says it all. I, my friends out in blog world, need to find a job as an EMT. It's been almost 6 months since I passed the class. All I need to do is submit my application for my county card and get my ambulance drivers license and then I can apply my heart out. The sooner I get a job, the better. A friend of a friend was recently hired and listening to his stories is making me realize how much I want to do this. I love kids and I enjoy working with them, but I can't wait to get going on my career! Imagine. Being able to move out! It's a dream of mine. Unfortunately, unless I meet someone who wants to support me through medic school (which will, quite possibly, be one of the most trying times of my life), I shall remain living with my mom. The 5 year plan has me working as a fire medic and living on my own. That's enough to keep me going for now.

On another note, I was feeling super discouraged about things on Monday and after talking to several different people, I started to feel a lot better. Even when things get rough, I've still got it good.

And I must say, despite not being 100% stoked on my weight loss (or lack thereof), I'm really enjoying the gym. I've noticed marked improvement in my endurance and my strength. I also am really enjoying boxing. I channel some rage and let it out on the bag and end up feeling much more relaxed afterwards. An ass kicking workout tends to relax me. I have no energy left to be stressed out.

The moral of the story is that no matter how bad I think things are, I've still got it good.

I'm going to quote one of my favorite songs now. Don't judge me.

"'Cause sometimes you feel tired,
feel weak, and when you feel weak, you feel like you wanna just give up. But you gotta search within you, you gotta find that inner strength and just pull that shit out of you and get that motivation to not give up and not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse."

Eminem is one talented dude. I find his songs to be motivating and excellent to workout to. When I'm halfway through a workout and my legs are aching, my lungs are burning and I'm sweating so hard I can't see, one of his songs comes on and I can somehow make it through to the end. "Till I Collapse" by Eminem and "Sacrifice" by Lil' Wayne are my top 2 power songs at the moment. And now having thought about the songs and read the lyrics, I can't wait to workout today! I never thought I would feel this way about working out. I crave it some days.

New moral of the story: Never give up.

Insert Clever Title [Here]:

So many questions, so little time.

My plan for the past few weeks has been this:
1) Get in shape for Fall '10 fire academy
2) Pay off debt using Pell Grant to make living expenses less expensive
3) Crash 3 fire classes Spring '10 and 2 fire classes Summer '10 in preparation for fire academy
4) Continue working as a nanny/caregiver and volunteer a few days a week if possible at a fire station
5) Complete fire academy, get hired in SD County.
6) Go to Palomar's Paramedic program
7) Complete paramedic program, work as a FF Paramedic

Now, after having spoken to a few people and having lost the Pell Grant, I don't know what to do! I'm hearing "Fire Academy first, then medic program" in one ear and in the other I'm hearing "Medic program first, then Fire Academy" and I have no idea what is best!!!! I've put in some emails to the Fire Academy instructors, but only one has emailed me back and he was less than helpful. I suppose I'm going to have to start stalking the FF Paramedics in SD County now. Maybe someone will help me out and give me some advice.

Maybe the problem is that my plan is exactly that: MY plan. I really haven't prayed about this at all. This occurred to me last night while I was trying to go to bed. So, I prayed last night for some direction. I feel like that's one step towards where I need to be.

On another note, while googling "How to become a firefighter" (because I'm not joking about having questions that need answers!), I stumbled upon a blog by a woman named Athena who is 30 years old, has 4 kids and is currently training to become a firefighter! She has been documenting her journey through blogs and some vlogs and it's been the most helpful and inspiring thing I've found yet! I sent her a message on facebook (her blog had a link) and I added her. After reading some of her blogs last night, I was feeling really inspired and I couldn't sleep, I was so jazzed. She has posted some of her workouts, too, which I'd like to try to do.

I'm no where near where I need to be physically, but I'm working on it. I went through a modified circuit of what Jake took me through on Wednesday last week. It was moderately difficult, but I know I need to push myself harder. I did 5 sets of: 10 push-ups, 6 "Jump Squats", 30 crunches (or 10 seconds of scissor kicks), 30 seconds of jumping jacks (or pretend jumping rope) and then I went on a 15 minute walk and did 10 lunges on each leg, followed by a reverse push-up chaser (10). Like I said, I know I can push myself harder, but I'm pleased at what I got done today. Now, all I need to do is focus on what I eat.

My National Registry test is on Thursday. I'm planning on studying whenever I'm not working, sleeping or exercising. Haha, I could probably even stidy while I work-out, but one of the trainers told me when I work out, I need to be focused on working out, not on other things. So, we'll see how long it takes me to turn working out into a release instead of something I have to do. :-)

One of those days:

You know it's bad when even drowning your sorrows in cookie dough doesn't help. I had a bad day, and it feels like it just gets worse as the day goes on. First, I'm working a double "shift" today, so I started out the day knowing it was going to be a long one. Then, the kid literally sat for 1 hour staring at his food before he took a few bites and I decided I couldn't take it anymore and just decided to let him go hungry. Then his mom mentions maybe giving him a breathing treatment, but she didn't make it clear, so I didn't give him one. Then, we go through the same routine at lunch with the not eating. So when the mom gets home, she gives me a mini lecture on how "if I'm ever not sure, to just call" and "do I know what his wheezing sounds like " followed by an example of his wheezing. At this point, I'm on my 3 hour break and am driving through Vista (more like sitting through Vista. the traffic was horrible) to go pick up my moms friends dog that we're watching over the weekend when my mom calls me and says her car broke down. Now, believe me when I say that we have NO extra money. We don't even have enough money to pay for our already-cost-efficient life.

It was at this point that I kind of snapped. I started driving like I was on drugs and I was rude to my mom on the phone. I finally pick up the dog and get home. I arrive home with about 2 hours left of my break. I check my email and find that the son of the lady I am a caregiver for would like me to start working Friday through Sunday instead of Saturday to Sunday. I am fine with this, assuming my hourly pay stays the same. And that's what I tell him. Minutes after I send my response to him, he shoots back an email stating that they want to decrease my pay by $1 an hour. This may not sound big, but it is when you consider that I've worked for them for a year and they're the ones who want to increase my hours!

So I went and got some cookie dough from the fridge and tried to eat it, but I ended up crying after one bite.

So it's just been a bad day, I guess.

Spring Break:

Rave:
Getting a week off for spring break.
I love not having school for an entire week. I didn't even think about school (except to acknowledge that I wasn't in it) for about 4 days.

However...

Rant:
Getting a week off for spring break.
It totally sucks having to go back to school after only a week. I had been considering taking a class over the summer, but thank God they didn't offer anything that I could take. I really look forward to the summer. I love having no school for almost an entire season. Although, chances are I will be working 5-7 days a week. At least with school I meet people my own age instead of toddlers and elderly people... Wait...Does this mean I like school???

Real Simple Quote:
"There is joy in all."

—Anne Sexton