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I'm back...

2007-07-16 - 5:43 p.m.

I went on vacation. I drank. I sat on the porch which was exactly 87 steps from the ocean (at high tide) and read and soaked up the sun and just had a magnificent time. I didn't get too trashed every day. But, I did drink something every day. Except maybe one day? I don't remember. I let myself go on a little PBR kick in "honor" of bathy - it was nice. I also got in touch with one of my EE buds. She's expecting me at a meeting this Thursday. So, I'm going. I mean, it's not like she's forcing me - I told her I need to go back. Because I am a freakin' nurse and I cannot be a drunk nurse.
And, speaking of being a nurse, I got to go get my little immunizations and tuberculosis tests done today. And I got to fill out paperwork and get my picture taken and get fingerprinted. Oh, and I took a drug test and I passed. And so now, I am just realizing that I need to be responsible again. The fun is dun. So, I'm gonna stop again. After this week prolly. When I start bein' a nurse, I wanna start bein' a nurse. I don't want to have to question myself when I'm working with patients. I don't want to have to think, "Hmmm... is there any alcohol left in my system from my 7-beer chugfest lasta night? And, if so, should I REALLY be giving this kid chemotherapy right now?" No. I don't want to do that. To my patients or to me. Everyone is worth so much more than the BS that I'm putting myself through right now. Because I can't just have ONE beer. No. I gotta get drunk anytime alcohol touches my lips. What's the point of drinking if I don't? My brother can have one beer. He drinks it for the taste. Not the effects. My friends can have one beer. They do the same. Me? All I'm interested in is the escape and the fine line between being drunk and being so hammered you throw up.
Uh, so yeah. I went on vacation. It was fun. So fun that my mom and my brother decided at 9 p.m. on Friday that they weren't going to drive back on Saturday. Since I had my employee stuff to do today, I HAD to come back. So, they rented me a car. And I got to drive for 12 hours on Saturday. Now, I know why they call Na$car a sport. My body was so sore on Sunday it wasn't even funny. So, they will drive back on Wednesday. My only hope is that they don't die in an accident. That would just make this year a pretty shitty year. Yeah - I think things like that now: "Oh gee. I hope mom and Mark don't die in an accident on the way home." So, pray to the car gods that nothing that fucking crazy happens. Because I will then just want to kill myself. Seriously.

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