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Lennifer
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Name: Jennifer
Birthday: 2/7/1985
Gender: Female


Interests: diet d.p.
Expertise: I put those BIG boats in those LITTLE glass bottles.
Occupation: Medical
Industry: Hospitality


Message: message me
AIM: Jenntifer8


Member Since: 7/20/2003

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Sunday, April 29, 2007

Currently Listening
Cassadaga
By Bright Eyes
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Just 1 week

The past 4 years have been crazy, and most days I have prayed that they would fly by. They have. Tomorrow is my last class day. Last day of sitting in an uncomfortable chair for 10 hours listening to a boring lecture that will better my future, though I hate to admit it. Just one more project presentation. Group projects are dumb. That has and always will be a fact. Only two more exams that will make my stomach turn and make me doubt my intelligence. Lots of pain and suffering, but I'm almost done, and I've come out of this with such a gift. I have attained knowledge that will change peoples lives and give me the opportunity to share with them the hope I cling to everyday. I cannot for one second take a bit of credit for any of it. He has given me strength to get through every lecture, test, project, and 4 am morning clinical. I thought once I had gotten to this point I would have so much to say and so much excitement, but all of a sudden graduation is just here and I don't know how to react. I'm glad it is over and I can have a life now. This is the last Friday night that I have to break fun plans to stay at home and study. Praise God.


Wednesday, February 21, 2007

and on that note...

so it would seem to one that I hate school. not a bad assumption.

did I mention that I'm starting my masters this summer? adult nurse practitioner with a concentration in cardiovascular disease. contradictions everywhere.

I'm interviewing for jobs. I picked a good major. everyone wants me. its kinda like a meat market business these days.

I'm looking for places to live.

I'm wondering what I'll do with more than $30 in my bank account!!

Life is changing. but I'm okay with that. its an adventure that I'm not in control of!


Sunday, January 21, 2007

3.5 torturous months left

I'm taking 14 hours this semester. My last semester. Doesn't sound bad. but wait.

Monday: class 8-5=9 hours

Tuesday: clinical 6am-6pm=12 hours

Wednesday: clinical 6am-6pm=12 hours

Thursday: clinical 6am-3pm (big break!!)=9 hours

Friday: nothing, but considering I've been in school for 42 hours in 4 days to cover 14 hours of college credit, I SHOULD be off.

I'm ready to be done with this junk. I hate it. I'm tired. I'm really tired. I want my life back. I actually don't remember the last time I had a life free to do whatever and not worry about studying.

 


Tuesday, December 19, 2006

I don't know

This seems to be the recurring theme of life in general. At one point I was wondering where to go to college. Then I fought with God about a major. These, what seemed to be at the time, HUGE problems are no longer empty ideas or questions.

But as life evolves, so do the questions. I DO know my graduation date which will forever be encrusted in my brain, but the questions begin once I walk off that stage. Which country, state, city, hospital? I've thrown around ideas. South Africa and Austin, TX. Two very different places. To be absolutely honest, I have not a clue as to where I am going. I feel pulled in so many different directions for so many different reasons.

On another note, I'm tired of being bummed out at Christmas time. I'm so selfish. I'm just tired of being around such happy and joyful people when I'm not. This has been a recurring theme for the past few years also. Great timing.


Saturday, November 11, 2006

Today, my clinical was in Baylor Hospital's Neonatal ICU. I loved it. So much. I could see myself doing that.

I love Baylor.

The hospital, that is.

4 weeks left.

Then I get to finish my j-man application, start and finish my EE class with Miss Shirley, study for HESI, take an ACLS class, study up on my EKGs, and plan pinning.

Merry Christmas!

Graduation will be here before you know it! I hope its in May though.



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