Wednesday, March 13, 2013


My last post was entitled "Halfway There".  The journey is now complete, as I sat for and passed both State Board tests, applied and paid for my license, and am now in a Georgia State worker (an oxymoron if ever there was one)  induced floating period.  I lie in wait for my real live paper license to arrive, for I can not legally work or charge for services until such is completed.  Apparently there are a bazingazillion RN licenses that have won first place in the triage the State of Georgia assigns to the importance of licenses to "get to" first.  Boo hiss.  I do not agree with this in the moment and from where I am now; however, I will tell you with all hypocrisy that should any member of my family be injured or intensely ill, I will revoke this statement all the way to the ER and will swear I never said it.  Remember this.  We go to the ER quite often.  They know us by name.

So next along this beautiful journey is pulling together resume, portfolio, and mindset of a person looking for work.  I've done none of these for two decades, and the last time I did it was in a completely different (corporate) setting.  I've no clue about this one, but I'm fixin' ta find out.    Unlike most people I know however, I enjoy interviews.  Always have.  I like the process, I like meeting someone and assessing who they are and how best to relate to them, whether to lean in or back off during conversations, how much to share or not to share, and how to let them know I'm listening and I feel their value and power but at the same time am vitally aware of my own value and power.  Weird, right?

So here we go in a new direction.  I feel like I'm at the top of the ten story waterslide getting ready to push off.   There is an actual story there.  Once when my family and my sister's family took our kids to Lake Winnepasaukah, there was a 'new' waterslide at the back of the park.  I swear it was ten stories high, and you had to walk up that many open-air scaffolded flights of stairs to get to the top.  By the time we all got there, we were huffing and sweating so much we didn't even take a moment to look how high we were and what we were getting ready to do.  The 'slide' was actually a tube, and the teenager working at the top handed you a traylike-inflated-ish boat like thingie to sit on.  You plopped down in it and before you could turn around and say "see you at the bottom", he placed his Converse-clad foot on the back of your boat  and with lightening speed, hulk force, and absolutely no warning or expression on his face,  pushed you off into watertube never ever land.  

I screamed all the way down.  I don't remember it, but my sister and the rest of those who came after me swear it.  The sheer force of the push-off and the water gushing down the slide gave enough momentum that I automatically went from a sitting position to lying flat on my back.  Flat is a relative term.  While I was flat for the entire ride, much of the time I was flat on the side of the tube while going around corners or on the top of the tube while in the loop-di-loop.  But I was always safe inside the tube, even though it went by so fast I don't remember it.  I've always wanted to go back and do that sucker again.  Maybe soon.

Meanwhile back at the ranch subdivision,  I am poised to embark on just such a trip in my own life.  Wish me luck, and if I fly by you, on my back, screaming, wave to me.  Ok?