I'm changing. While Lincoln inspires restraint and calm and patience in me, the rest of the world is driving me insane.
I'm angry, uncooperative and quick to rile. Stress at work has finally given me my second panic attack (at least I recognized it early this time, locked myself in the bathroom, cried and got some texting therapy from the hot husband).
I find myself looking for ways out all day long. It's hard and getting harder.
Last night, a pompous prick of a baby-daddy started a fight with me and I fought back. I was yelling in my patient's room telling him he was rude and disrespectful and embarrassing himself. My pulse went up, but I never felt afraid. If another nurse hadn't heard the exchange, I probably wouldn't have said anything to anyone. This is not familiar behavior for me.
We keep losing babies at work. We almost lost a mother. Going there so much is not helping. It's not good there. NOT GOOD.
I want to sleep for a thousand years and then wake up, have a pee, and go back to sleep for another thousand.