Starfish

I haven't even had these bjo for all that long and already I am so sick of them. Yes, they're out of the family, but lately that's not enough. Just bjo is not enough. It's paperwork! Tomorrow I'm lined up to find an invoice. That's right, a whole day of $13/h to look for a single invoice that some idiot lost. It's meaningless. I'll continue to do it, but something has been tickling my brain and so I'm going to change direction just a wee bit.

First I'm signing up for my Standard First Aid certificate and CPR certification at the Basic Rescuer Level (C), then finally sorting out my driving stuff so I can hit the road. There's also about 15 days of schooling needed at the ACoP. Costs $1k but I've got that covered. If I take my diploma exams in June, I can get my certificates in July, and be done in time for another round of diploma exams in August.And what this translates to my chickies, is that I'm going to be an EMR. Lowest on the tier of Emergency Responders, but that's completely expected. This is something that has been been an option since I was . . . I dunno how old. My father was an EMT when I was born and the idea stuck. It's not something for life, and yet in a way it is.It's not just a bjo, it means something. It's my version of the starfish story.

It's not nursing (which involves many things I simply can not get into) but for a while I avoided it as if it was. That's changed of course. As for the boom side of being in the Medical field, I'm fully aware. I know that sometimes they die on you, sometimes they take it out on you, sometimes there are raged druggies, and sometimes the person you're sworn to save is the person who just killed someone. I'm still doing it.And I'm still writing.And I'm still starting the spring semester at the UofA so I can get my Science degree.

Each one is a step that leads to things I want. Things I need. I will finally be able to balance the side of me that wants to think and the side of me that just wants to act.Of course this means I have to take yet another personalty test. Bah, you can never win with those things. What use is asking me if I'm hungry or not? Makes no sense. Of course I'm hungry, but how does that mean I'm a repressed soul unfulfilled by familial obligations and unlikely to be good for "multi-line communications"? Wackos.