Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Final Whine of '09

Having a brand new baby arrive in the house in late 2008 pretty much set me up for a sleepless nightmare of burning eyes out of their sockets hell of depravity. And boy! I'm riding 2009 out on that wave of shit, let me tell you.

I've said before, this boy is sweet. Sweet, sweet, sweety, sweet. And it is precisely that sweetness that keeps me from giving him something to cry about, know what I'm sayin'?

In 2 hours I leave for work for the final few nights of '09 of baby birthing and I suppose that there is some sort of symmetry that I share with my patients, what with the over-packed black bags under my eyes. Perhaps they see me not only as the person who is capable of (and often dispatched to) inserting any manner of tubes into their various orifices (and occasionally, making new ones), but also as their ally in this brutal war of the BABY WHO WILL NOT SLEEP.

Wish me luck and send care packages.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Counting it down, chapter one

I hope (and I know you do, too *wink wink*) this will be the first of a few year-end posts from your beloved Nurse.


Some smart lady said recently: "don't people have diaries anymore?". Good gawd, lawd. I couldn't agree more. 2009 may go in the books as the year I started to dislike the internet a leeeetle, leeetle bit. Why? Lemme make a list, this being the eve of Santa's big dance and all, a list might be fun.

1. Please. Please. STOP using your facebook status as the billboard for why you called in sick to work. We get it. You need the time off. We don't need to know about your ass-assault or the viscosity of your mucus. Just stay the fuck home and off the computer, k? *because it's kinda suspicious*

2. Don't like something? Good for fuckin' you. If it's not open for debate, I don't give a shit.

3. Think you're sexy? Think your third grade teacher's grandkid thinks your sexy? Surprise! He does now after you posted that profile pic of yourself giving oral sex to a popsicle using that "artful" I'm-taking-a-picture-of-my-self-hope-it-doesn't-make-you-nauseous angle

4. If you wanted to be a writer/English teacher/professor I'm sorry that didn't work out for you. But you must know, I MUST tell you: it's FUCKING DEPRESSING to read about your favorite poems/essays/themes every. time. you. log. onto. a. computer.

This really isn't about me being bitter. This is about my beloved internet turning into a peep-show for the socially defunct. I LOVE that the webz helps the shy and introverted shake their money-makers. But I fear the shark has been jumped. I want it back the way it was! I want they mystery back. I don't want to know how much you had to drink last night and how much of a hard-on you have for the chick who works the register at the health food store.