5 months. 5 grand.

Well, it looks like I won’t be graduating in December 2010 as I had previously hoped. :-( I wasn’t accepted into the accelerated program because of scheduling technicality. Ugh. I needed my statistics course to be accepted, and because I had a scheduling conflict last Fall, I wasn’t able to do it. As I’ve mentioned before, I had been able to rearrange my clinical practicum schedule to do my statistics class in the Spring, but my acceptance was dependant on the number of applicants. They’ve always had a dozen or so applicants, but this year they had 32. Blarg. 21 where accepted.

It really sucks because students who failed practicums last year where accepted before me. I get that, in theory, there’s a risk I don’t pass my stats class, but I think I should still be accepted before people who have failed classes, no?

Anyway, I’m done fighting this. It seems like I’ve had constant road blocks with this. I guess I’m just not meant to graduate in December. I’ve been trying to focus on the positive things:
- I get to attend a real convocation - something I've been looking forward to for a very long time;
- With four classes one semester and 3 the next, it should be fairly mellow compared to previous years;
- I might work part time in health care, which means more experience;
- I won’t start working already burnt out from school;
- More time to study for my national exams;

I guess it’s not so bad, right?


...

Political Correctness

One of my roommates (the teacher/virgin Mary) could be considered a great roommate. I love the fact that she is never around. It’s nice to have the house to myself more often than not. However, my fear with this particular roommate is that I might come home one day to find my house burnt to the ground or maybe a wall or two accidentally knocked down. You see, my roommate has Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) so extreme I sometimes wonder how she functions. Some of you might remember the tomato on the floor incident (see link), which was very much her work. Earlier this month she destroyed my mixing bowl (the one that is to be used with my food processor). She was never willing to admit just HOW the mishap happened, just that it was a very stupid mistake. I believe it involved popcorn and it left my bowl looking like this:



Last week I came home to discover a steak knife with mustard on it in the middle of the living room floor. Actually, Pacha is the one who discovered it! I was not impressed to find my dog licking a very sharp knife! Ugh. This morning, I tried to leave the house, but couldn’t open my front door. I have no idea what she did to it, but unless you put your entire weight on it and push really hard, you can't get out. I still don’t know how someone is going to get back in. *sigh* Last year she tore the door off the hinge so I guess it was just a matter of time before she completely killed it. I don’t even know where to begin to fix it.

So here’s my question: is it politically correct to tell someone with ADD to focus? Let me put it this way, if I were really depressed (having been diagnosed with chronic depression) and someone would tell me to just “snap out of it” or “just be happy”, I would be royally pissed because sometimes it is out of my control. Sometimes I want to scream: “Good Lord Woman just pay attention!!!!” I have brought up many things she has done and she feels horrible about it, but it doesn’t change her behaviour. What else can I do?

Anyway, I think she is moving out at the end of November. I say I think because she is supposed to get married on November 22... but doesn’t have enough money to start planning the wedding until the end of October. What the ?? Given that she is supper religious, we aren’t talking about a little trip to city hall, here. I have no idea how the most disorganized person in the world is going to put together a wedding in 22 days. I haven’t advertised her room yet; because I get the feeling it’s just not going to happen. I guess we’ll see.

I didn't get in....

I realise most of my readers might know this already, but I thought I'd still post about it.

It's official - I didn't get accepted into the radiology program. :-( They stated it was because of my GPA and encourage me to redo some classes. UGH.

I was preparing myself for this, but there was still a glimmer of hope. Of course, I'm crying even though I told myself I wouldn't. *sigh*

I'm ok. I just wanted to share the news (even bad news) because you all have been so supportive.

I haven't given up... it just means another year of school... another year of roommates... another year of being in the poorhouse. UGH.


I'm debating on a few options:
1 - Try to get in at the hospital part-time for September and take part-time classes as well. I still have an English class I haven't done for my 4th year as well as one elective. I'll also redo physics and maybe a chemistry class.

2 - Go back full-time and redo any class below a B (while working part-time at Cora's)

3 - Quit and go into nursing.

The last one is something I've been mulling over since I started working at the hospital but I feel like I'd be crazy to switch even though it opens a world of opportunity. I think I'm just panicking over not getting in.

The way I see it, the universe wouldn't be so cruel as to not let me in the program AND have me remain single for another year, right? So I guess the universe owes me one!

I Gotta Get at Least One, Right?

I’ve been thinking about getting into the program (no, I haven’t heard anything yet). I figure the universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to not let me into the program AND have me remain single for yet another year! Things need to balance out, right? So I figure if I don’t get in the program it at least means I’ll find the love of my life this year. The universe owns me at least that much.

The downfall of Barbecue season…

I love to barbecue! I think my favourite thing about it is the lack of dishes to do after the meal! However, I"ve discovered a slight problem with barbecuing: having your roommate forget to turn off the burner and you throwing in a match… thinking you will throw in the match and THEN turn on the burner… only to realize seconds later that you’ve burnt off all your forearm hair!

It’s all stubbly and feels like I shaved my forearm! Bah!

Happy barbecue season everyone!! :-)

Happy Leap Day!

2008 is a leap year which means it has 1 extra day tacked on to the end of February. I had always assumed leap year was every four years, but it seems it’s not that simple. A leap year is one that can be divided by 4, but not divided by 100 unless in can be divided by 400. Confused yet? It basically means that 1800, 1900 and 2100 are NOT leap years, but 2000 and 2400 are leap years.

Leap Year has been the traditional time that women can propose marriage. Obviously these rules don’t really apply to modern day courtship, but when the rules were stricter, women were only allowed to pop the question on one day every four years. That day was February 29th. Apparently this tradition was started in 5th century Ireland when St. Bridget complained to St. Patrick about women having to wait so long for men to get off their ass and propose! According to legend, St. Patrick said the yearning females could propose on this one day in February during the leap year.

Maybe this is an omen. Maybe today is the day where I don’t need to wait for the universe to get off its lazy ass and offer me what I want… maybe it’s the one day that I can tell the universe what I want and it has no choice but to give it to me. Hmmmm… such prospect for the day.

So what are you going to do with your extra day?

My Chemical Imbalance

This might seem like a strange post, but I realised this week that I’ve never directly talked about my chronic depression and have only alluded to it. So why post now? Well, my hope is always that someone out there will read this, see themselves in my words and feel better about themselves because they are not alone. If I can help even one person get over the social stigma attached to depression then this post will have been worth it.

So here’s my story:
I was diagnosed with chronic depression 12 years ago (age 20) but most likely have had it my entire life. Even as a child my Mom said I had a lot less energy and was a lot more anxious than all the other kids.

I also prefer to use the term dysthymia rather than depression, mostly because it doesn’t have the same negative connotation as depression. Dysthymia is a form of depression and one doctor did describe my condition that way.

Here is a definition:

Quote:
Dysthymic disorder is a depressive mood disorder characterized by a chronic course and a subtle onset. Many people with dysthymia report that they have been depressed all of their lives and have an outlook coloured by chronic depression.

By definition, dysthymia is a chronic mood disorder, with a duration of at least 2 years in adults and 1 year in adolescents and children. Although dysthymia is often considered less severe than a major depression, the consequences of dysthymia without major depression are grave and include severely impaired functioning and increased morbidity from physical disease.

I describe it this way; depression is often associated with low serotonin levels in the brain. Serotonin is often referred to as our body’s natural mood-altering drug. Serotonin levels also affect many other things such as energy level, concentration, thought process, motivation, etc. So let’s say serotonin levels can be measured on a scale from 1 to 10 with 10 being the highest serotonin ever (like a really, really great day) and 1 being the lowest serotonin level ever. The average person’s daily level might be a 7 or 8 with an occasional 9 for a really great day and maybe a few 10s in your lifetime (like say the birth of a child). On the other hand, a normal person can still have bad days like a 5 or 6 and maybe a 4 when a family member passes away.

Someone with dysthymia naturally has a lower level of serotonin so an average day would be a 5 or 6 good day a 7 or 8 (normal for everyone else) and a bad day a 3 or 4 you can see where a traumatic event could easily put them off the edge which would be called a double-depression. I take anti-depressants to bring me up to normal levels so I still experience the highs and lows, but I get a little higher than I used to and don’t go so low. Explained this way, people can better understand that it is a physical disease.

Double-depression - something you don't want to witness
Sometimes dysthymia can lead to a double-depression which can be quite debilitating… in other words, even getting out of bed is difficult. I’ve had two double-depressive episodes; one when I was first diagnosed and one in 98/99, but am happy to say I haven’t had any since then… well, none that required me to leave my job anyway. I’ve become very aware of my condition and if I feel I am “sliding” I take all the necessary precautions to avoid a major episode like eating healthy, exercise and getting enough rest. I’m pretty proud of the fact that I’ve have maintained an episode free existence since then especially through some pretty stressful times (my brother’s death, the end of a significant relationship, changing careers and moving several times).

How does it affect my life?
Well, for one thing, I get tired easily and when I do I have trouble concentrating and get overwhelmed at minor things. Like right now I’m feeling the stress of school and am always having mini freak-out sessions because my roommates don’t put things back in their place (this would be me getting overwhelmed). Sometimes I just have “bad days” that I can’t explain. I’ll feel down or tired without really any reason. It happens once in a while and usually passes. I also take anti-depressants every day and will likely always take them. I want to point out that I believe I'm one of those "rarer" cases where anti-depressants will likely be needed for the rest of my life. I've been on a variety of anti-depressants for 12 years (starting and stopping repeatedly) and then consistently for 7 years. I think anti-depressants are really important to get you out of the fog so you can concentrate on getting better, but it's not the answer for everyone. I do think doctors tend to over-prescribe without offering additional help that I believe is necessary.

My thoughts on anti-depressants:
The thing about anti-depressants is that it does more than make you happy. In fact, I’m not even sure anti-depressants alone can make someone happy. Depression comes with a whole bunch of other symptoms other than the blues: tiredness, lack of motivation, inability to concentrate, you feel as if even the smallest tasks are sometimes impossible, difficulty to think clearly, difficulty sleeping. What I find anti-depressants really help with is to clear away the "fog". It helps me concentrate, think clearly, sleep better so I can work on becoming happier. When I’m in the “fog” it’s like I can’t think clearly. Minor things seem huge and insurmountable.

Taking anti-depressants is very much trial and error. If the first ones don’t work, try another one. I’ve been on anti-depressants for 12 years now. In the first three years I tried several types. Some were for just a few months, some were for a year or two. I eventually found the one that was right for me. I’m on a two anti-depressant combo. One of them I’ve been on for 7 years and the second one was added 4 years a go. Even though it now works for me, I know it might not be the thing that will work for me forever and that’s why I try to be very proactive with my depression.

It’s a disease like any other – why can’t people see it this way?
No one wants to be labeled depressed. But the truth is, it’s a disease, just like diabetes or epilepsy. There is no reason to be embarrassed by it. In fact, dysthemia is very much like diabetes in the sense that it is a chemical imbalance. In Type 2 diabetes the pancreas doesn’t produce enough insulin… with dysthymia, the brain doesn’t produce enough seretonin. See what I’m getting at? Both are chemical imbalances.

I also like to point out that, much like diabetes, dysthymia is a combination of medication and lifestyle changes. Diabetics have to change their eating habits and exercise they also have to take insulin. They could likely "live" without paying attention to their diet and exercise but they are damaging their body and putting themselves at risk. It’s the same with depression. I could just take the meds and not see a therapist to deal with any challenges in my life and stay "alive" but I’m putting myself at risk.

Random thoughts on the disease
I’ve always felt "off" (for lack of a better term). I don’t think I ever really felt "normal". I can’t say the anti-depressants made everything perfect but it help me see things clearer and the diagnosis of dysthymia/depression gave the feeling a name. Knowing what it is and knowing, if I work at it, I can control it, made a huge difference. I had hoped and dreamed of a dramatic change when I went on anti-depressants. I thought my world would be suddenly rosy and perfect. That feeling never happened. There was no grandiose moment of truth... it was kinda slow coming. I think after 6 to 8 weeks I just noticed one day I wasn't crying 4 times a day anymore. I wasn't having anxiety attacks, I was able to go out a bit. I still had work to do, but the anti-depressants made challenges easier to take on.

Other things that help:
Since my brain doesn’t make enough serotonin and/or it doesn’t know how to use it properly, I need to get as much sunlight as possible. Sunlight produces serotonin in the brain. Since I live in freezing, gloomy New Brunswick I need to use a sun lamp daily. It REALLY helps with my energy level!

I am very open about this condition and am not afraid to discuss it with anyone. I like to think I’ve also helped people with depression by talking about my experience with it. However, for the most part, I’ve avoided having this discussion with employers for fear that I would be treated differently. This will make sense to many of my good friends and former co-workers to whom I never discussed this matter. I also never know when it is the right time to discuss this subject with a new guy in my life. The word depression or mental illness still has a major stigma and not everyone understands it. It doesn’t mean I’m crazy or loony, although I often use these terms to make light of the situation. Like I said before, it’s just a chemical imbalance, nothing more.

Dealing with depression/dysthymia on a daily basis
I guess I just deal with it day by day... it's really all I can do. I recognise that I have bad days and good days. When the bad days come, I try not to be too hard on myself and remind myself that it is a disease; I'm not going to be perfect all the time. Exercise and a healthy diet are so important to my mental well-being so I consider this a huge coping mechanism. I also realise that this is the hardest part of my "therapy". Right now I'm not exercising and my diet is all over the map... I can really feel it in my energy level, my concentration and the frequency of my bad days. It's a bit of a vicious circle... you feel down and don't want to exercise... but then you feel down because you haven't exercised! I still haven't figured out how to keep the exercise momentum going.

I know my post is supper long, but I figured I would just put it all in one place! Besides, I really need a reference I can easily copy and paste to email to a prospective boyfriend. :-P

F is for... Freedom?

After finding myself in the math department bathroom sobbing like crazy for the third time this month, I made a decision. I need help with this freakin’ calculus. I need to go back in time and relearn a whole bunch of stuff from high school or I’m never going to get it.

So, after much reflexion I’ve decided to abandon my math class and finish with an F. I just can’t see how it’s humanly possible to pass at this point when I can’t seem to understand any of my homework. Plus, going to see the prof ever other day asking questions and getting answers that leave me bawling in the bathroom is just not working. I’m simply missing too much of the basics.



For the next two months I will be doing my best to relearn grade 12 math. I’ve got several of my father’s old books and have started studying during the time I had reserved for my university calculus class.

This means I might not be eligible for the radiology program in September 2008. It hurts me to think I might have to add on another year because of one stupid class, but such is life. I’ll be re-taking my current math class in January and will do the second required math class in the spring. There is still a chance I’ll be able to apply for the program, but I won’t know for sure until I meet with the Program Director next week. Whatever the outcome may be, I’m ready to accept it and deal with the consequences when they arrive. Like they say; Everything happens for a reason, right?

Adventures in waitressing

Yesterday I had to dress up for a Halloween day at work. As previously posted, I went as a “cereal” killer. The costume wasn’t much of a success as most people had no clue what I was nor would they ask.

To make they day even better, a few hours into my shift I bent over and split my pants! Actually, it’s like my pants just disintegrated! I had to work the rest of the shift with my ”holy” pants! I kept asking the girls if my ass was falling out… but the best they could answer was… it’s not THAT bad. UGH.

Méli-Mélo

Méli-mélo: French word meaning mish mash or jumble. Today’s post is a méli-mélo of information.

I missed a class today. I MISSED A CLASS! Gah! I feel like such a delinquent. :-( Thank goodness it was only chemistry… but still. Chemistry would be third on my list of “challenging classes” with physics and math tied for first. I guess I must have been tired because I somehow turned off my alarm when it rang and slept till 9:30 am (class was at 8:30). My next class is at 1:30 and I have been lazing around all morning instead of studying. I feel guilty about it, but not guilty enough to actually do something constructive.

Going to school is exhausting. Owning a house and going to school is even more exhausting, when I get home from class, I have the choice of studying, cutting the lawn, cleaning the kitchen or more studying. I wish I didn’t have to work part-time. It really cuts into my downtime… in fact it eliminates my downtime. I relish the days of being able to vedge on a Saturday morning with my big cup of coffee and my favourite online magazine.

What I really need is a non-student boy to either support me financially or be my housemaid. Since I can’t even find ONE respectable date, the chances of finding my very own boy toy are slim to none. Speaking of dates, I asked my French professor out. It’s not what you think; he’s no longer my professor. I found out last Friday that I had been exempted from taking French 1933. Yay! Which means that instead of doing French 1913 AND French 1933, I would only have French 1913 to do. This is a big relief, however, it also meant I wouldn’t get to see my cute French prof anymore. I decided I would attempt to ask him out. Although Dr. Couz told me I should intercept him in person and ask him out then, I just couldn’t do it so I sent him an email. Essentially, I advised him I would no longer be taking his class because of my exemption and was somewhat happy because it meant I could now ask him out for coffee. Of course, I said this in my most eloquent French. He hasn’t responded which means one of two things: a) he has a girlfriend or b) he’s afraid of the creepy stalker-student. Either way, it’s a bust.

I have to admit, I feel really lonely lately. It seems all I do is study and work… but that’s not really why I feel lonely. Even if I had some free time I wouldn’t have too many people to share it with. All of my real friends live outside of New Brunswick and the one friend I do have in Moncton is busy with an exciting life of her own. She’s married and expecting her first child next month. She has also said that, as an adult, she doesn’t feel the need for friends as she did when she was younger. She has her husband and her family and that’s enough for her. She feels seeing her friends maybe once a month is sufficient for her. Of course, I don’t think she was realizing what she was telling me when she was saying it… it was just a casual conversation about growing up and how life changes. So, to her, I’m like her period… something you see once a month.

These days, my social circle doesn’t extend much beyond my gene pool. My sisters are my best-friends and probably the only people I socialize with… oh, and my mom too. I know this is me complaining about being “alone” again, but it’s really hard. :-( I so wish I had someone to share my life with. The thought of coming home into the loving arms of a boyfriend/husband sounds so completely comforting to me these days. I wish my life wasn’t measured in pre-Mike and post-Mike time frames (Mike being my ex of course). I often measure my life in post-Mike years. We’ve been broken up for almost four years (it’ll be four years January 1) and I still count the years. Four freakin’ years and I have yet to be in love or in a relationship that has any potential for going somewhere. In these four years I’ve had lots of short lived dating adventures and one six-month relationship. Four years is half the amount of time we were together and yet I can’t move beyond validating my life on pre-Mike and post-Mike. Ugh. I really don’t get it. I’m cute. I’m smart. I’m a total catch – yet I’m still single. Why?

Oh Happy Day!

I’m currently enjoying the afternoon off due to the torrential downpour over my cubicle!

I was working through lunch today (which is a big no-no… but thank goodness I was), when I heard the sound of water. I looked over at my neighbour’s cubicle when I saw water leaking from the ceiling. A co-worker got up at the same time and noticed the leak so she grabbed a garbage can. Just then, the water went from a slight drip to a rainstorm! Water was pouring on my neighbour’s cubicle and making it’s way towards mine and others! My co-worker and I tried to salvage as much as we could from the cubicle being rained on and cleared stuff from all other cubes. The fire alarm sounded and we had to leave the building.

We were outside for over an hour just waiting around while the fire department made sure the water hadn’t caused an electrical fire. When we were finally aloud back in, we were greeted by the clean-up crew letting us know we could only grab what we needed and to head home. It was the most wonderful news I’ve had in a long time!!

There is a big gaping hole above my cubicle, but nothing seems ruined. It’s a pretty sweet deal because I get the afternoon off without actually having to deal with having my stuff destroyed. Life is good. :-)

Waiting for the Alarm to Sound

Six years ago I weighed 165 pounds. I know what you are thinking - holy crap! Is she really talking about her weight? Gah! So, as I’m writing this, I’m mentally going through the people who have access to this blog… talking about your weight is so taboo… but you know what? Who cares if people know what I weigh or weighed. Are you really going to think any differently of me? And if you do, do I really want you as my friend? (That’s what my Mom always said, anyway)

Anyway, at the time, I actually didn’t even know what I weighed. I think I had been around that weight since the infamous freshman 15 (or is that the freshman 50). I can’t remember why, but I decided to join Weight Watchers. Over the course of 6 months to a year I lost close to 30 pounds. I also started running at that point and ran my first half-marathon. I continued to run and maintained my weight. Eventually I left Weight Watchers, figuring I could maintain my weight on my own (famous last words, as they say). Well, life got in the way… I stopped running… stopped paying attention to what I ate and eventually the pounds started to creep up. I remember weighing myself regularly and even though the number was going up, I wasn’t concerned.



About 2 and a half years ago, I weighed myself and I had reached 168! Wah? I had gained more weight than I had lost?? I was panic-stricken. Alarm bells started ringing in my head. Forget the fact that I had been at 164 for the previous 6 months… I was now 3 whole pounds heavier than when I had started. Why that seemed more dramatic, I don’t know… but I got back to work… started exercising and eventually running and training again, even watched what I ate and finally got back down to 145. Not as low as it had been the last time around, but still respectable. I kept up my running, did a couple of half-marathons and a marathon.

So now it’s been 7 months since my marathon. I’ve been living at my Mom’s place and it always amazes me just how much your environment can influence your lifestyle. Yep. In the last 7 months I’ve gained almost 30 pounds. Wow. Sadly though, no alarm bell has gone off in my head this time. It’s like I’m living outside of myself. I see the number, see that my clothes don’t fit, but I haven’t gotten depressed about it, haven’t panicked, haven’t even had the least bit of interest in saying – it’s go time D. You need to take control of your life again. Nope. Not feeling it at all. Not even the fact that I weigh more than ever is motivating me. I don’t feel any self-pity or sadness because “I don’t know what to do anymore” like so many people complain about. I certainly KNOW what to do. A) Run B) Lay off the two-bite brownies, blizzards and chicken wings C) Ummm, that’s it. You have to cut back 500 calories a day to loose a pound a week. There are 200 calories in 2 two-bite brownies… I eat the entire bag in one sitting – you do the math. It all seems pretty simple, yet my brain isn’t able to compute. It’s like my brain is a little kid going nah-nah, I’m not going to do what I’m supposed too.

So, if you know how I can stop my brain from rebelling against my body – please let me know. Until then I shall remain pleasantly plump.

Brain in overdrive

Research indicates you shouldn't make any unnecessary, life-altering decision in moments of high stress, depression or grief... like decide to change careers a few weeks after your brother passes-away... or buy a dog... or start mentally remodelling the house you have yet to close on... or get engaged. Ok, the last one was added in because I was running out of examples.

It seems like the last few weeks have been a flurry of thoughts on how I should change my life. It started out a few days after my brother passed-away when I thought; why wait until the spring to get a dog? Get a dog now! Yeah, I'm not even in my house yet. I started reading up on dogs and practically have mine picked out. Then I moved on to remodelling the house that is not yet mine. Initially I was tearing down the porch, rebuilding it, repainting the entire house and having the siding redone. Now I seemed to have moved on to installing floors! Of course, in my mind, I'm doing this all myself. And this week it's all about career change. That's it! I'm going back to school... with my dog and while I'm paying a mortgage and remodelling my house.

Hmmm... do you think I take on stuff to avoid reality much?

The school/career thing has been weighing on me for years now and it just keeps coming back. It sucks. Way back in the day as a young University student I started out studying biology. That didn't last long because I couldn't see myself as a "biologist". At the time, I needed to see the end result (ok, I still do). I needed a goal to thrive for and all I could see at the end of the line was a career in research. I knew I loved biology, anatomy and physiology, but couldn't make the link between the science and the real world. Today I realise that it was the University format that wasn't right for me at the time. It wasn't precise enough for my liking. So I headed to college... in communications. Wah? Communications? I don't see the link. Yeah, there wasn't a link. I was creative, liked writing and figured it would be a "fun" career. I mean, Samantha from Sex in the City seemed to have an awesome career, right? Sadly, I didn't see that I could have still gone to college in a biology/health related field, but I really thought I had to do a complete 180.

After years of floating along in communications, advertising, marketing and PR I've become the person who hates writing in a work context, hates dealing with media, gets stressed out when I have to be creative on demand and takes it personally when people criticize my ideas. Most days, I wonder if the field is really for me. One of the things I hate most is the ambiguity of it. Everyone thinks they can do marketing and everyone has an opinion. If I choose to use the word confidence in a document and a sales person comes back to me after the piece is published to let me know that he would have preferred to see the word poise and later a product specialist indicates to me he would have liked to see the word assurance... what is my argument for using the word confidence if all three words would grammatically fit in the context? It's not like I'm saying 1+1=2 and someone comes back to me and says, yeah, I think you should have used 6 instead of 2. Umm, no. 1+1 does not equal 6! Ugh.

So the career change desire comes back every couple of years. The first time I contemplated a career change was back in 2001, just before I got the job offer from Congrès mondial acadien 2004. I wanted to go back to school - wanted a career change. Then the job offer came and it looked to good to refuse! I don't regret taking that job, but I definitely DON'T want to take on that kind of project ever again. The next time a career change was suggested was near the end of Congrès. I still clearly remember New Year's Eve 2003. Mike and I are at a small gathering at a friend's house. We're sitting in the kitchen eating a super yummy dip and talking about life when I mention that, now that Mike has finished his Master's degree, it's finally MY TURN to go back to school. After 4 years of being there for him financially while he studied I was finally going to get my chance. I talked about my interest in physiotherapy and the health industry. However... the next day I left him. Oops. I was on my own and it really wasn't the time to make a career change. I figured I'd give this communication thing one last try... and that's when I ended up at Sobeys. Now I blame Sobeys! I LOVED my job at Sobeys! I really thought, finally; confirmation that I am in the right career. I think it might have been an illusion as the people I worked with were so amazing... I'm not sure if I had moved to another department if the feeling had persisted.

So that brings me to today and my longing to do something more meaningful - something that makes me passionate. So far I've figured a few things out about myself: I'm fascinated by the medical/health field, I need a job that sees results... I just can't work on something for three years before I see the fruits of my labour – even in catering I feel satisfied after nicely placing a table setting… I haven’t done anything incredible, but I enjoy the sense of satisfaction it brings, I need a structured environment without too much ambiguity, I'm a big rule abider (I'm the person who would never do anything without first reading the instructions), I work well with people when they come to me for help or if my role with them is already defined... if I have to go to them to "sell" them an idea or product or even request a service from them I get stressed out, I tend to be the mediator in meetings, I’m surprised (and maybe a little embarrassed) to say, I like repetition – I can’t say I could do the same thing all my life, but there is a certain enjoyment that comes with doing something that is clearly defined and the outcome is always the same, finally, I love using my creativity... but on my own terms. So where does that lead me?

I just can't see how it is fathomable to take 5 to 6 years to become a physiotherapist or even 4 years to become a dietician... I've looked into two or three year programs at colleges (radiology, respiratory therapy), but even that seems impossible to do with a mortgage! I feel like I've come too far financially to give it all up! I also want it all: the house, the dog, the career... maybe I'm just asking for too much.

Ahhh so much to ponder. One thing is clear... right now is not the best time to be making any big decisions.

Cool and the gang

The results are in – I didn’t make the cut to hang with the cool kids. Last night most of my co-workers at the convention centre where talking about going out drinking tonight. It’s a rare occasion where we don’t have an event today or tomorrow so most of the crew are going to a local dance club for a group drunkfest. A few of us weren’t invited. Other than myself there is the boss, the 60-something old bitty who likes to complain and the bizzaro 40-something guy who acts like a three year old. Gah! I’ve been inducted in the land of the weirdos! I figure they didn’t invite me because a) I’m 31 (which for a 19 year old is ancient), b) I only see them once or twice a week, while most of them work full time for the summer, c) I haven’t been there in two weeks so they just didn’t think of inviting me. By the sounds of the discussion the outing had been in planning mode all week.

If I had really wanted to go I would have just invited myself… but the truth is, I don’t want to stay up later than 10 PM. Hah!

I don’t like Facebook. I like Facebook. I don’t like Facebook.

First of all, I know a few of you out their probably don’t know what Facebook is (namely my family) so here is a little introduction.

Facebook is a social networking website. It was originally developed for college and university students but has since been made available to anyone with an email address. People can select to join one or more participating networks, such as a high school, place of employment, or geographic region.

Facebook – I don’t like it.
When I first joined a little over a month ago I didn’t see the point. I checked for any of my High School alum and a total of three people (out of a graduating class of 500) were listed. I barely knew anyone on the site and it seemed to be over-run by teeny boppers. The whole experience made me feel quite old.

Facebook – I like it
After about a month I got a message from a childhood friend. I was suddenly intrigued and interested in this Facebook phenomenon. I logged back in and started searching. Suddenly I was inundated with messages from childhood friends, high school buddies, old boyfriends, etc. It was fun and exciting to see what everyone is up too.

Facebook – I don’t like it
This week, Facebook is really getting to me. Seeing all these people I once knew, happily (or seemingly happily) married with kids or expecting kids is a harsh reminder of just how far I am to being in that position. It really sucks having this biological clock ticking and no way of stopping it. Even if I go the adoption route (which I’m planning on getting the ball rolling in the Fall or Winter) I’m still looking at a minimum of seven years before I have a child. Ugh. I don’t know if it’s the tiredness or the stress of buying a house, but I feel like I’m constantly reminded of the things my life is lacking lately. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely excited about the house and very proud for doing this on my own, but it feels like something is missing… like I should be sharing my excitement with someone other than my sister or my mom. Singledom at thirty-something sucks.

So… I bought a wedding dress today.

No. I’m not going crazy and yes, I really DID buy a wedding dress today. I was out thrift store shopping with a friend today when we saw this gorgeous wedding dress at Frenchy’s. I couldn’t believe it! It was like every dress I had tried on once upon a time. I looked a t the price: $50. My friend and I gawked at it and she said, too bad neither one of us is getting married. That’s when I remembered a consignment shop where the dresses go for $300 to $700. So we went to the consignment shop to check things out. Sure enough, the prices were as I remembered and many of the dresses weren't even as nice as the one we saw. So I went back and bought the dress! I’m going to try and sell it at the consignment shop for $300 on Monday. I swear I’m not crazy!

Not so crazy after all

An instructor for the 5 km clinic has been found and therefore I am not needed. I guess I’ll just have to go on dates on Friday nights... dating – that’s an interesting concept.

From Radiance to Ranting to Revelations

My best friend just told she is 3 months pregnant! I couldn't be happier for her and her husband. I was literally jumping up and down and screaming when she told me. It's wonderful news and I'm over the moon happy for them.


That being said, I couldn't help but feel a slight stab of pain (jealousy?) thinking about just how far I am from being in her position. Don't get me wrong! I am still extremely happy for them, I just wish I were married and pregnant too... or at least had some sort of prospect of this.

So this thought of wishing I were somewhere other then I am right now, combined with my recent desire to fast forward through the next few months got me thinking about how I live my life. I'm obviously not living in the moment right now.

Not so long ago I went out for lunch with two friends. One of them pretty much lives her life in the present (we'll call her Rose), while the other (we'll call her Blue) has no clue just how lucky she is and is always wishing for more. As usual we spent lunch discussing the state of our lives: relationships, family, career, kids, etc. Both Rose and Blue are married with kids. Blue is by far the one who has the greater household income, she's the one with the bigger house, she's the one with the husband who does absolutely everything for her and she's the one that has two beautiful healthy boys. However, Blue has never been happy. She wishes she had the neighbours SUV or the co-workers brand new designer pants or that her boys had perfect grades. At our recent lunch she said, "I thought I'd be happier by now. I thought once I was married with kids and a house, I'd be happy", She clearly isn't. It's tough to sit there and listen to Blue complain because Rose has had her share of challenged in the last few years and although I haven't had too many challenges, Blue does have many things I would like to have. Of course, Blue suffers from depression and doesn't do anything about it. I believe I've ranted about her actions before (but that's another story). Obviously, I can't help Blue... she has to help herself. Strangely though, Blue has helped me by instilling a little fear in my heart.

Am I like Blue? I realise I am definitely not as extreme as Blue, but the fact that I wish I was at some other stage in my life is a sign that maybe I am a little like Blue. What if I'm wishing the next six months away and somehow it turns out to be the greatest six months of my life? Will having a house, husband and kids make me happier? Probably not. If anything it would likely make more stressed out! :-) I don't think it's happiness I'm looking for, but simply the guarantee that I will get "there". Maybe if someone could tell me; "look, it's going to happen - you will get married and have kids so stop worrying about it. In fact, this is the date of your wedding and these are the dates of your children's birthdays". Maybe I could live my life without worrying so much. But since no one has a magic crystal ball and worrying only brings more wrinkles, I might as well just live my life for today. I mean, who knows what the next six months have in store, right?