The wind of changes...or some stupid crap like that...

Tonight is the perfect night to write about change, as the wind is blowing and the moon is glowing and the words are flowing....hahahaha I kill me sometimes but seriously, change it is a-coming and I am freaking-the-hell-out.

What kind of change? Well, a life-changing change, of course. At my age, you don't blog about your hair color as being a change, unless it turns ummm, green and it was on accident. I am changing jobs. There I said it, it is written down. No turning back now. I am leaving the ER and going to the VA. Why? Well, that my friends is a story indeed, however, a story for all of the world to see, when I have not been secretive about who I am or where I work? Eh, I will save that drama for my book I will one day write. And hopefully, someone decent will edit it because my English is for shit man. And maybe you all will buy a copy or three.

So, here I sit, sighing and sniffling. No, for once I am not crying, I am sniffling because I again, have the Karma cough that tried to kill me in August, about the same time my therapist decided I was not good enough to waste time on, even though I have insurance and I am pretty damned funny. You know what to hell with her. What the hell does she know? That clutter makes you feel burdened? That it is not smart nor healthy to ignore your mail and not pay your bills. Well, hell, really Einstein, I would have never figured that out on my own, thanks for all your wonderful insight. Bitter? Bitter me? Never, I forgive easily, I just never forget.

However, in all seriousness, changing jobs has been painful, not only for me but those around me as I am an asshole and not afraid to share my misery. I am awesome like that. As dramatic as it sounds, taking this job is a huge leap of faith. Of it will all work out and things will be OK. And you all know, that I really don't believe any of that crap. What's the deal with this job? Well, it is part-time, yeah, 40 hours every 2 weeks and the insurance because of the part-time, well, it is 280ish bi-weekly. Yeah, I was shitting puppies when I read that, also. But with the house of sickness Tony and I live in, living without insurance is not smart or really doable. I have to have insurance. Have too. And it sucks. And I am stressed and worried and wondering WTF am I doing taking a job I can't afford to live on?! Protecting my sanity I hope. Refreshing my love of nursing. Taking a break. Doing the right thing for me. Shit I dunno, really, what the hell I am doing beside getting out. All I feel is this extreme need to get the fuck outta dodge right now. Run, Angie, Run. And it has to stop. I need it too stop. I need a break. So, I keep telling myself, yeah things will work out. Things will be OK. Two small dogs=a few days of meals.....