Woof

I'm trying to be a good wife so I was cleaning away and I got to the kitchen and I thought,
"I'm feeling super ambitious and maybe I'll even deep clean, hmmm, I'll start by pulling out the oven"

OH MY GOSH!
(covers mouth with hand)

This is what I found

dry heave

I have a feeling this is why our apartment sorta reeks.
Can you imagine the years it's been like this? The sicknesses it's caused? When Provo was founded I bet this apartment used to be a horse stall and before letting civilized human beings live it in they didn't even bother cleaning it up. I've been sleeping in the next room for two months and this grim and utter filth has been just sitting there!!! The horror!
Interesting objects found in the pile:
* a toy car
* a child's toothbrush
* a handful of M&Ms
*a garlic clove
* a crayon
* fruit snacks
* a tomato slice


An hour and a half later it looked like this

And then I puked (joke). Just one of the joys of living in rat infested Provo. gross. 

Home alone again.

Just got a little bit electrocuted by the hair-dryer spontaneously combusting on me.
 Instead of leaving this life by simply shutting off, instead it felt the need to spark brighter than the sun in my hands and go from 0-5 million degrees in .2 seconds and transform into a heap of burnt rubber and plastic on my bathroom floor.

What a drama queen.

 

Anxiety will be the death of me

This is not true. I would be very scared to have me taking care of you.

CLINICALS.

Yuck. Great things about clinicals:
1) Nurses.  I am entering the nursing field these days because I have a burning desire to not be such a meanie as it seems 95% of the nurses I get paired with are. When I meet nice, NORMAL, kind people in every day life and they tell me they're a nurse I skeptically ask them again. Are you sure you're a nurse? Cause you aare pretty nice and haven't looked at me like I'm the scum of the earth and we met a whole 5 minutes ago.

2) Clinicals are a great way to show everyone how dumb you are. If ever I feel like I'm getting the hang of things, I  volunteer to get my nurse some IV tubing, and after frantically searching and staring at the supply wall for 10 painful minutes and still not being able to spot it, she then she walks in and grabs it first thing without saying a word. "I was just about to a spot it, Nurse Nancy! Uh, sorry about that! Next time I'll know where it is! haha *elbow nudge haha!!" (In my head: stupid Kristi, stupid. C'mon! get ahold of yourself you dumb A!)

3) It's also very fun to be a creepy little stalker to someone you just met. I especially love when they get up and you follow them, just to have them turn around and say "uh, I'm just going to the bathroom, you're alright."
shoooooooooot.

I got home from work at 9 o'clock on Friday and with one look Josh knew I wasn't doing so good. He held me in his arms as I cried and moaned "Maybe let's just run away forever and never come back?"
I set my alarm for 3:50 A.M. which is neither morning nor night, instead it just exists and no one ever talks to it or tries to form a relationship with it because it's lame and useless and will just end up pissing you off. But instead of 5 hours of sleep, I got 3 1/2  hours of level 10/10 anxiety and Josh got an all night therapy session.

"It's ok Kris"
"IMA DIE TOMORROW!"
"It's ok Kris"
"I'm the stupidest girl in the class!"
"It's ok Kris"
"I'm Screwed!"
"It's ok Kris"

Until finally he coaxed me into sleep for 1 1/2 hours and I had a weird dream of him getting us a pet monkey that I was really pissed about.
When the alarm rang I got up in an absolute stupor and was out the door by 4:15. Have you ever seen how empty the roads are at 4:15? Of course you haven't because NO ONE IS UP. The partiers are smart enough to go to bed by then, and the people up for work don't even get up that eary. As I drove past Denny's however, the place was packed. Of course it was, only dummies go to Denny's and only dummies are up at 4:15 (IHOP is delicious).

As expected, I freaked out all day, and bit my nails a lot, and gave a little pep talk to my 8 day old patient who wouldn't stop screaming as I fed him and asked him nicely if he'd stop so the nurse wouldn't be mad at me when he came back.

The best part of the day? When I got home Josh was carrying a bag. I asked what's in the bag. Nothing baby. What's in the bag? Toothpaste and stuff. That's not toothpaste, that's Twizzlers. And orange juice, and Blowpops, and EVERY KIND OF CANDY I LOVE! YOU ARE THE BEST HUSBAND EVER!

And I ate myself into blissful comatose Twizzler submission.