Out Of The Frying Pan.

"I haven't blogged in forever."

"I know, your life is so boring now that I don't have cancer."

"Yeah, remember that time you kicked the shit out of cancer?"

"Sure, but why don't you remind me."

"I can't, I have to study."


My mother's recovery has allowed me time to start my prerequisites for nursing school, and what a month it was. However, jumping from having music theory as my most scientific class to delving straight into chemistry and biology didn't feel like the cluster fuck I had expected.

All this has happened before. Terrible stethoscope position, BTW.

I seemed to set the bar early as a tattooed, sassy overachiever, hellbent on perfect scores and probing questions, but not without the practical sense to not answer every question asked (even if I knew the answer and OH GOD THE TENSION OF NOT ANSWERING, COME ON, IT'S A FUCKING ENZYME). I walked to school every day, screamo blasting in my ears (don't judge, I reverted to my college playlists and I'm not proud), then settling in the quiet of the library to absorb myself in studying.

And holy christ did I study.

I got 99 problems but a B ain't one

Some things came naturally, like reading a new edition of your favorite book. I found myself at the Sexy Nerd Table, with the women who were probably mocked in high school for their brains, only to blossom into total badasses who competed in biology for top quiz grades. We threw out lines like, "If you get a 100 on this test, I'm going to punch you in the face," and begged our professor to let us each dissect a frog, so we could have the "experience". We gleefully sliced and examined while other students gagged.

I knew I was going to do well, but I had no idea how happy I was going to feel. Moving from something as subjective as studying music, having to deal with moody professors judging you by your phonation on any given day, to thinking critically and scientifically, was worth every early morning and late night. And it's only going to get more challenging, and equally as rewarding, I imagine.

I'm ready for my OR rotation, Mr. DeMille.

My mother's healing has been brilliant, and we're heading down for a few days before I start anatomy and physiology. Naturally, I'm already balls deep in the textbook.

Studying and parenting FTW

So we're going to have to come up with another title. Maybe: "Do You Even Nursing School, Bro?" Of course, that's conditional upon my acceptance, so, maybe: "Do You Even Prerequisite, Bro?"

How about, "Do You Even Love Your Life, Bro?"

Yeah, I'll go with that.