The thing that I loved most about working the night shift was that I would come home so exhausted that I could crawl into bed and fall right asleep.

I am not a good sleeper. I have never been a good sleeper. I lay in bed, planning out conversations that I will have, that I should have had, that I wish I could erase and repeat. I think about interviews and meals that I want to cook. I pray. I try to prepare for every possible scenario, so that I can be ready for the morning.

I am wide awake, trying to prepare for the next step. I am not sad, nor am I scared. But I keep hoping that if I stay up long enough, I will be able to face whatever comes next.

I want to know what tomorrow will bring. I'd rather wait awake than be woken in surprise.

My grief is quiet, nearly silent. It is drowned out by the words and tears of your parents, your siblings, your friends, your coworkers. It finds me in the middle of the night, in secluded corners, on long car rides.

Most days, I keep you out of my thoughts. It's easier not to remember you because then I don't miss you. It's easier to forget. It's easier to deny that there is a dull, heavy ache in my heart, right where you used to live. If I forget to remember you, I don't need to mourn never seeing you get married or the fact that my children will grow up never knowing yours.

The unfairness of losing you will never lose its sting. It will always be at the forefront of my feelings for you. I am not simple-minded enough to convert my grief into nostalgia. I am unwilling to deny the anger and confusion that I feel every single time I remember that you died at twenty-four, all of your goals unaccomplished, all of your dreams unrealized. There is nothing natural or correct about the way that you were taken.

I miss you. I will never stop missing you. I may never accept the way that you left us. I may never outgrow this grief.

23 was a strange year

Being 23 was rough in ways that I never expected. I am a girl wholly unaccustomed to failure; graduating from nursing school during a recession was not something that I expected or appreciated. My best friend died unexpectedly, turning my world completely upside-down. I drove across the country twice and flew between Arizona and California more times than I can count. Lost weight, gained it back. Broke up with Russell, got back together. Was unemployed for a few months, took a bunch of classes, got my DREAM JOB (even if it is temporary).

I am happy. Some days, I work at it, and it's really hard. It's been almost a year since Kaylee died and I've gotten out of bed every day since then. I consider that a victory.

I absolutely LOVE my job. I'm working nights on an infant/toddler general pediatrics floor. Sometimes when my floor is slow, I float to Level I NICU. For 12 hours, I feed babies, change diapers, and sing nursery songs. NG tubes, TPN feeds, lab draws. The last time I worked, an exceptionally chatty 4-year-old grabbed my nose; when I asked what he was doing, he yelled, "I'm beeping your horn!"

So, resolutions. It's 2012 already. I didn't make any. But here's a follow-up on the ones that I made last year:

- Cook more. ---> I've roasted chickens and hosted dinner parties and feel like I'm really finding my stride in the kitchen.

- Work less. Stress less. Generally give myself a break. ---> I'm definitely working less and enjoying my free time more.

- 6 pack abs? Right? ---> I'm sure.

- Rediscover all the things I used to love to do before I convinced myself that falling into the "work hard in high school SO you can get into a good college SO you can work hard in college SO you can get a good job SO you can make lots of money SO you can buy lots of things SO..." So what? I don't know. But the money is good and the job is not so good, so maybe by this time next year, I'll have a whole different career? Or at least hobbies that make the day job not so...job-like. ---> I'm in the same career, but a different job, and so much happier.

- Here's the big one, though: Figure out how in the world I'm going to get back to Namibia or to Haiti to work with all the babies that my heart hurts for. Whether it's nursing or being a teacher or saving all my tips from the barista gig I have to get when I finally quit being a nurse, I just can't help but believe that God puts these kids on my heart and never lets me forget them for a reason. So that's the big one. Figure out how to get from point A to point B (or point Z, because as of right now, it seems like quite a ways off). ---> I still can't quite see how it's all going to fall into place, but I'm on the right path.

this is why my brother is the athlete in the family

Vegas & I have started running. I mean, I'm calling it "running" so that you all (hi Dad & Bekah, my two most devoted readers) understand what I'm doing. If I were somebody who actually ran, I would call it jogging/walking/listening to an iPod while trying to keep Vegas out of the street/from eating cats/from eating garbage while she tries to pee on every rock that we pass.

Our schedule goes like this:

0700 - alarm goes off

0701 - reset the alarm so that I can sleep another 15 minutes

0715 - alarm

0716 - reset

0745 - alarm. Decide that we probably ought to get out of bed

0746 - stretching

0750 - realize I've fall asleep stretching, resume stretching

0755 - put on running shoes. Vegas knows WHAT IS UP

0800 - head out the door. Jog/walk/iPod/in the street/chase cat/pee on rocks

0845 - back home. Take off shoes, socks, leash, shirt. Vegas & I both stretch in front of the fan.

0900 - try to convince myself that I want yogurt for breakfast. I hate yogurt. Eat a few bites. Feed the rest to the dog.

My future as a triathlete is not all that bright. Furthermore, making me run past Raliberto's, Filiberto's AND Armando's? That is just unkind.

Anyway, sneaking into that interview seems to have switched up my luck. I have TWO interviews tomorrow for pediatrics positions!! If you are of the good thought sending or praying types, I'd appreciate if you send 'em up for me!

lazy sunday

All that I plan on doing today:

- sleeping until noon

- forcing Russell J to order tortas en español. Giggling/being totally proud of him

- watching the Steelers play/napping

- resting up for my interview on Tuesday. That's right. I scored 2 separate interviews in one week. En fueeeego.

interview ninja

Today, at twenty-four years of age, I broke the rules.

There was this hiring event. And in order to score an interview, you had to apply via the website. Of course I did, because I am super great at following the rules. I never heard back.

But I did use my sweet Google skills to find out when & where they were interviewing. And because I'm unemployed & so bored that I've started RUNNING (willingly), I showed up.

I mean, what are you gonna do? Fire me?

Really, what did I have to lose?

...

They interviewed me.

And they liked me.

And wearing my lucky black pointy-toed pumps totally worked, at least for a first interview.

And I felt like a total badass...until two men under the age of thirty called me "ma'am" at the bank.

It's cool, though. The high from this interview will last at least a week & proves that I'm not a leper.

Excited!

week five of eight

- Harry Potter at the drive-in

- Sublime at Bethel Woods

- outlet shopping

- finally hitting the wall & just being tiiiired all the time

- cry a little, laugh a lot

- still no job offers, still no interviews

- waking up every day knowing that I'm one day closer to the end of summer & not knowing how i feel about that