Special Sauce

A mish-mash of twisted thoughts from a fevered ego. Updated when the spirit moves me, contents vary and may have settled during shipping. Do not open towards eyes. Caution: Ingestion of Special Sauce may cause hair loss, halitosis, and a burning sensation while urinating.


PS- An open letter to my classmates

To the guy who sits behind me-

Perhaps if you'd have spent as much time last semester on our group project, as you did on writing up little valentines during class today, our group would have gotten a much better grade.

Grow up,


To the chick who generally sleeps through class,

Congratulations for either discovering coffee, quitting your stripper job, or getting bitched out by the profs for sleeping through a 7 credit lecture course. They don't care if you show up or not. If you're that fucking tired, tell your pimp you're gonna stay home.



To the profs,

I realize that 4 hours is a long-ass time, but having 3 different schizophrenic lectures, one of which is on the test next week, two aren't, oh, and the one yesterday isn't, but part of today's that I didn't cover, IS.... is just really fucking confusing...

Lets try to cover stuff in order, in depth, and in some semblance of sanity.


"Can't Panic!"

Honestly, I have reached the point where my motto (to take a riff from RT) is not "Don't Panic" it's "Can't Panic." I've reached the saturation point of freaked-outed-ness, and the freak-o-meeter won't go any further into the red. (A side note: The bitchmeter is still working just fine.)

The days are just taking their toll, I'm starting to get sick/burned out, and I got a decent enough grade on my first exam. My clinical group is sweet, but there are a couple people who are driving me up the wall, because they are so very intensively needy. Every fifteen seconds they have to ask something, that I don't know the answer to. I don't know if it's because I'm older, or because I've worked at the hospital, but I. Am not. The instructor. I don't know kids, and I don't know Pediatrics, and I don't know what they want us to do up here. This is my second day here too. Why am I not running around like henny penny? Because I can't panic anymore. I'll figure it out, ask a nurse, or ask. The instructor. When I see her.

Seriously. It was a sweet, sweet relief to be in a room with a non-stop crying infant pretty much my entire rotation the other night, because it meant nobody was asking me freaky questions every 3 seconds.

Anyway. Happy valentines day to those who celebrate. To those that aren't, happy "go get drunk, be bitter, and bitch about the rest of us who are gonna get some day."