This is a picture of an antique compass that has been passed down in my family. It first belonged to grandmother. She told me that she received it as a gift when she was a young girl, and that she gave it to my father when he became a cross-country truck driver when he was a teenager. She said that she gave it to him so he could always find his way back home again. I think that I’m going to put it in my car this week. I’m going to need all the help I can get so I can find my way back home, too.
No, I’m not dead yet, but I am a zombie. I’ve been getting up at 3AM since starting my hospital orientation at Undisclosed Government Hospital, and the commute is starting to wear me out. The good news is that my 12-hour shifts are starting soon so I’ll have more days off during the week to rest. The bad news is that I’m going to have to drive myself to work. Traffic in Big City is notorious, and I have a serious phobia about getting lost. I get panic attacks when I don’t know where I’m going, so I’ve been making practice runs into Big City this weekend with my husband acting as my copilot. Today however, just before sunrise, I made a solo trip into Big City. I made one wrong turn, panicked twice, and found my way home all within 90 minutes. That means I was speeding. Hopefully I can get this down to a fine art by the end of the week without getting into an accident and without getting a ticket.
I want to wish all you moms out there a Happy Mother’s Day. Now I’m going to lay down and start breathing into a paper bag. I’m still feeling a little panicked from that last practice run into Big City. Bear with me while I try to pull my life together. I promise I’ll start blogging again on a more regular basis once I learn the ropes at UGH.