24 year old dorm dweller

Author's note: I'm a bad blogger. But since I'm more of a blog stalker* than a blogger, I'll forgive myself and my two followers. Hopefully this number will increase as I get more interesting.

I will yet again become a dorm dweller. My first experience with dorm rooms can be traced back to yester-year 2003. A scorching August day in New Mexico, you could find me hauling a TV up the flight of stairs in Laguna deVargas to be met by a bubbley, blond, gorgeous cheerleader. I was sporting a limp pony tail and was drenched in sweat. Nice...
...I hated her. Perfect, perky, and bringing designer dorm ware to our suite. I sneered at my mismatched, hand-me-down XL twin set.

Next week I will be a bridesmaid in her wedding. She was the MOH in mine. BFF...but that's a story for a different day.

My return to the dorms is not voluntary. Instead, I feel like I have been exiled to Tampa, Florida. Florida, you say? Florida was supposed to be the fountain of youth...the tropics of the United States. But Florida is missing my wonderful husband...

Okay, I'll admit to the melodrama. Here is the story: unfortunately, Phoenix lacks CRNA training sites because the anesthesiologists are dominating the field. This is a whole other story that I will hop on the soapbox later. But for now, this is my situation and in spite of my bitter, whiny, and sometimes childlike attitude, it is reality that I will face.

The reality is actually an amazing opportunity. I will be a student at one of the largest trauma facilities in the country...the world maybe! They do the kind of surgeries you only see on those wild, wacky, out of this world shows on Discovery Health. I will be doing those kinds of surgeries! Well, not personally, because blood and guts freak me out. I will be comfortably perched behind a drape praying that the blood and guts stay internally tucked in where they belong.

Florida is VERY CRNA friendly** and it will be an amazing opportunity.

I feel like my life has done a 180. A year ago, I was homeless, jobless, and found myself in a new city. 365 days later, I'm jobless and finding myself in another new city in spite of setting some pretty deep roots in Phoenix.

I just pray that I don't accidentally send sexts to the wrong person. I'll apologize in advance now.


*I don't identify with the term "stalker." To me, this implies felony...and I don't accessorize well with steel.
**Allegedly