Oh my god, and did I forget to mention I got to change adult diapers and give bed baths on friday to geriatrics in a nursing facility? and it was awesome?? no, really.. i already change diapers all the time so no big deal, but it was my first clinical and it was sweet! We did general patient care and took vitals and got familiar with patient records; really cool.
And let's not forget my awesome white clogs that I have to wear ;)
Monday, April 26, 2010
status quo
This comes as a surprise...
Everything is OKAY. As in, my life doesn't feel fucked up and I don't have a million problems and am super stressed and/or depressed and feel like I can't do anything right and it is out of control...
It's been a while. Hello, copacetic, meet Kate.
And the funny thing?
Nothing has changed. I think maybe, just maybe... I've got the hang of this and have accepted that it's going to be tough but I feel totally empowered by this, all of this, in a weird feminist liberating way. And if you know me, you know I'm not some kind of huge feminist.
But I feel like: SHIT, check me out, I got the only 100 on a test in my class and am already doing well and wrote some bangin papers and am totally into school and still manage to take care of my baby girl and wear clean clothes (almost) every day and at the end of the day, I come home and feel.... Happy. And I feel like I can do anything. And that when I get through this program, I will be able to do anything.
Maybe it's me, maybe it's just how things are happening, whatever.. I feel good.
Everything is OKAY. As in, my life doesn't feel fucked up and I don't have a million problems and am super stressed and/or depressed and feel like I can't do anything right and it is out of control...
It's been a while. Hello, copacetic, meet Kate.
And the funny thing?
Nothing has changed. I think maybe, just maybe... I've got the hang of this and have accepted that it's going to be tough but I feel totally empowered by this, all of this, in a weird feminist liberating way. And if you know me, you know I'm not some kind of huge feminist.
But I feel like: SHIT, check me out, I got the only 100 on a test in my class and am already doing well and wrote some bangin papers and am totally into school and still manage to take care of my baby girl and wear clean clothes (almost) every day and at the end of the day, I come home and feel.... Happy. And I feel like I can do anything. And that when I get through this program, I will be able to do anything.
Maybe it's me, maybe it's just how things are happening, whatever.. I feel good.
Friday, April 9, 2010
these days
Have been a little (a lot) crazy.
School is great. My teachers are fabulous, the curriculum is wonderful, my classmates, well, let's just say it's like being in a room full of you's, only you with a different background. It's great. I feel right at home. We are thrown right into it- assessing health, making nursing diagnoses, vital signs, etc etc... It really, truly feels like I am finally doing the right thing for once; like what I am doing is Important. It feels like purpose. I feel the beginnings of passion, a twinge in the beginning, something that will blossom and something that will be my fire.
But don't let me go on too long being positive for once... god forbid.
This shit is HARD. Right now I am taking 21 credits in a span of 12 weeks. After that, each quarter is something like 21 to 23 credits. In a year, I will have earned nearly 90 credits!? That is, if I make it. Since we started, not a professor has failed to mention that we very well might not make it, and that many of us will drop out before second and third quarter even begin. It is intense. In college, I never took more than 15 credits in a semester, and that was a 3.5 month semester, and THAT was a lot of work. THIS, this, is really going to shake the earth beneath my feet. It is one of the hardest, most intense accelerated nursing program in the country. When people find out I have a 9 month old, they look at me like I am nuts. I feel like I am nuts. I really don't know how I'm going to do this except one day at a time. Some days are so fucking hard and I wake up at 5 and have to get myself and tessa ready and fed, diapers changed, bags packed, homework ready, and she screams because I'm rushing and I feel like the worst mother in the world because at the end of the day, I just want to put her to bed because she's miserable from daycare. And the fucked up thing? It's going to be like this for a year. A year of waking up at 5 (sometimes earlier on clinical days) rushing out, rushing home, feeding tessa, bathing her, putting her down, barely able to play with her before her bedtime, and in my spare time what do I do? Homework, tons of it, dishes, laundry, cleaning.. cleaning changing table, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning bottles, cleaning diapers, cleaning the crust out of the creases of the highchair, I feel like fucking cinderella sometimes... And try to go to bed by 9 so I can not fall asleep in class or at clinical the next day. No social life, no friends, no fun. But that's not what I'm bitching about here... I am sad to willfully neglect my child, to be putting something else before her, to spend more energy on something other than her. I am sad that sometimes, sometimes I would just rather do homework than struggle to feed, change, and bathe my daughter when she is a miserable wreck after a long, stimulating day. I am sad that I have to do everything myself.
My first clinical today was at a nursing home in PA. My instructor gave us our orientation, showed us around, told us what we would be doing there. And we all talked for quite a while, about nursing, its importance, and the ethics.. how you have to remember that the person you are dealing with is somebody's daughter, son, mother, father, brother, whatever... you have to have perspective. She told us a story of the relationship between patients, their families, and the nurses and doctors caring for them-- how when she was 29 weeks pregnant, they found out there was too much amniotic fluid and the baby's lung had collapsed. She had to have a c-section 11 weeks early. The baby, named Liz, had a valve in her heart that was too narrow and the muscle wall became too thick and her lungs were filled with fluid... The baby couldn't thrive, she couldn't gain weight but she couldn't lose the extra fluid in her lungs at the same time, she had blood transfusions, she was pumped with drugs, she had the flu, she had heart surgery, she had sepsis and was pounded with antibiotics most adults couldn't handle, and the doctors at CHOP, one of the best fucking children's hospitals in the world, just could not figure out what was wrong and why she wasn't thriving, and eventually, she died. All in three months. This tiny, innocent baby, tabula rasa, just never had a chance.
And god mother fucking damn it, if that was me, I wouldn't be on this earth anymore. I would not be able to go on living. And that woman got pregnant again and had two more babies and is extraordinarily successful as a Nurse Practitioner, a nurse manager, a teacher, a mother, a wife... That is strength. That is courage, and if she could get through that and still walk this earth, what I struggle with is like comparing allergies to cancer. The things that we take for granted in life-- so many of us don't even deserve.
I have so much love in my life, I am such a lucky person, and yet I struggle to find happiness and accept my life and its terms, and I struggle with being strong enough to be a single mom and do this program... where is my perspective? Where is my gratitude? Do any of us really know how good we have it? There is so much pain, so much spontaneous tragedy in this world. Every second of every day, we should remember this and be thankful for what we have, and where we are; and concern ourselves less with the trivial: how do I look, what kind of jeans am I wearing, what kind of haircut should I get, does that boy like me, will I miss my favorite tv show, i can't believe he didn't call me my life fucking sucks. Look at yourself, look at me, look at the rest of the world, and how much harder and more awful and painful your life could be.
I don't know how to wrap this up. I don't know if I should keep writing this blog, it's theme has been much too depressing, at a time when I'm finally realizing how to find and to make my own happiness, how to be grateful, and how to live in the moment. Life is what you make of it, and it can be a self fulfilling prophecy. hold every moment in your hands and try to imagine it's weight in gold, realize it's value.
School is great. My teachers are fabulous, the curriculum is wonderful, my classmates, well, let's just say it's like being in a room full of you's, only you with a different background. It's great. I feel right at home. We are thrown right into it- assessing health, making nursing diagnoses, vital signs, etc etc... It really, truly feels like I am finally doing the right thing for once; like what I am doing is Important. It feels like purpose. I feel the beginnings of passion, a twinge in the beginning, something that will blossom and something that will be my fire.
But don't let me go on too long being positive for once... god forbid.
This shit is HARD. Right now I am taking 21 credits in a span of 12 weeks. After that, each quarter is something like 21 to 23 credits. In a year, I will have earned nearly 90 credits!? That is, if I make it. Since we started, not a professor has failed to mention that we very well might not make it, and that many of us will drop out before second and third quarter even begin. It is intense. In college, I never took more than 15 credits in a semester, and that was a 3.5 month semester, and THAT was a lot of work. THIS, this, is really going to shake the earth beneath my feet. It is one of the hardest, most intense accelerated nursing program in the country. When people find out I have a 9 month old, they look at me like I am nuts. I feel like I am nuts. I really don't know how I'm going to do this except one day at a time. Some days are so fucking hard and I wake up at 5 and have to get myself and tessa ready and fed, diapers changed, bags packed, homework ready, and she screams because I'm rushing and I feel like the worst mother in the world because at the end of the day, I just want to put her to bed because she's miserable from daycare. And the fucked up thing? It's going to be like this for a year. A year of waking up at 5 (sometimes earlier on clinical days) rushing out, rushing home, feeding tessa, bathing her, putting her down, barely able to play with her before her bedtime, and in my spare time what do I do? Homework, tons of it, dishes, laundry, cleaning.. cleaning changing table, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning bottles, cleaning diapers, cleaning the crust out of the creases of the highchair, I feel like fucking cinderella sometimes... And try to go to bed by 9 so I can not fall asleep in class or at clinical the next day. No social life, no friends, no fun. But that's not what I'm bitching about here... I am sad to willfully neglect my child, to be putting something else before her, to spend more energy on something other than her. I am sad that sometimes, sometimes I would just rather do homework than struggle to feed, change, and bathe my daughter when she is a miserable wreck after a long, stimulating day. I am sad that I have to do everything myself.
My first clinical today was at a nursing home in PA. My instructor gave us our orientation, showed us around, told us what we would be doing there. And we all talked for quite a while, about nursing, its importance, and the ethics.. how you have to remember that the person you are dealing with is somebody's daughter, son, mother, father, brother, whatever... you have to have perspective. She told us a story of the relationship between patients, their families, and the nurses and doctors caring for them-- how when she was 29 weeks pregnant, they found out there was too much amniotic fluid and the baby's lung had collapsed. She had to have a c-section 11 weeks early. The baby, named Liz, had a valve in her heart that was too narrow and the muscle wall became too thick and her lungs were filled with fluid... The baby couldn't thrive, she couldn't gain weight but she couldn't lose the extra fluid in her lungs at the same time, she had blood transfusions, she was pumped with drugs, she had the flu, she had heart surgery, she had sepsis and was pounded with antibiotics most adults couldn't handle, and the doctors at CHOP, one of the best fucking children's hospitals in the world, just could not figure out what was wrong and why she wasn't thriving, and eventually, she died. All in three months. This tiny, innocent baby, tabula rasa, just never had a chance.
And god mother fucking damn it, if that was me, I wouldn't be on this earth anymore. I would not be able to go on living. And that woman got pregnant again and had two more babies and is extraordinarily successful as a Nurse Practitioner, a nurse manager, a teacher, a mother, a wife... That is strength. That is courage, and if she could get through that and still walk this earth, what I struggle with is like comparing allergies to cancer. The things that we take for granted in life-- so many of us don't even deserve.
I have so much love in my life, I am such a lucky person, and yet I struggle to find happiness and accept my life and its terms, and I struggle with being strong enough to be a single mom and do this program... where is my perspective? Where is my gratitude? Do any of us really know how good we have it? There is so much pain, so much spontaneous tragedy in this world. Every second of every day, we should remember this and be thankful for what we have, and where we are; and concern ourselves less with the trivial: how do I look, what kind of jeans am I wearing, what kind of haircut should I get, does that boy like me, will I miss my favorite tv show, i can't believe he didn't call me my life fucking sucks. Look at yourself, look at me, look at the rest of the world, and how much harder and more awful and painful your life could be.
I don't know how to wrap this up. I don't know if I should keep writing this blog, it's theme has been much too depressing, at a time when I'm finally realizing how to find and to make my own happiness, how to be grateful, and how to live in the moment. Life is what you make of it, and it can be a self fulfilling prophecy. hold every moment in your hands and try to imagine it's weight in gold, realize it's value.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
on the move!
I wrote this a few weeks ago and just noticed I never posted it:
So because my daughter is a genius and very advanced for her age and will probably graduate from Princeton when she's ten, it wasn't a surprise when she started sitting up at 5 months, scooting around shortly thereafter, and pulling herself up at 7 and a half months. She didn't crawl, but I figured she was just gearing up to start walking at a very early age, skipping the crawling altogether.
Well. Newsflash. Tessa tried crawling yesterday. She did it a couple times, put a few feet under her belt before packing up and heading to bed. This morning, she is crawling all over the place, and quick. Crawling anywhere she sees. It's like a whole new world of experiences has opened up for her. It's great! She crawls to the shelf and pulls the books off, crawls to the couch, pulls herself up, and pulls my files onto the floor, yanks my computer cord and pulls it out of the computer, crawls to the fireplace and pulls up on the sharp stone ledge, grabbing handfuls of wood and ash in the process. She crawls to the trash and pulls it over. The laundry bin. The stool. The printer.
Good lord. I was so enjoying sitting and playing with her. Now it's going to be chasing her while she plays. It means constant cleaning so she doesn't eat every little speck in sight, it means covering all sharp edges, it means never letting her out of my sight. I was so, so content with the stationary baby. But the stationary baby has little left to explore, and will eventually branch out. Such is life. Now, what ELSE this means is that the more she moves, the more tired out she'll get. I guess each stage has its challenges and its benefits.
Regardless, having a baby is so much fun, and the most wonderful fulfilling thing in the world. I love watching the excitement and wonder with which she sees everything. We could learn a lot of lessons from babies. Everything can be looked at in a new light, change is constant, life is exciting, meeting new people is a good thing, be content with what you have, smile all the time and other people will smile too... It is cheezy but it's true. This child has turned my life around. Her wonder is my wonder. When life is good, I have Tessa. When all else fails, I have Tessa.
So because my daughter is a genius and very advanced for her age and will probably graduate from Princeton when she's ten, it wasn't a surprise when she started sitting up at 5 months, scooting around shortly thereafter, and pulling herself up at 7 and a half months. She didn't crawl, but I figured she was just gearing up to start walking at a very early age, skipping the crawling altogether.
Well. Newsflash. Tessa tried crawling yesterday. She did it a couple times, put a few feet under her belt before packing up and heading to bed. This morning, she is crawling all over the place, and quick. Crawling anywhere she sees. It's like a whole new world of experiences has opened up for her. It's great! She crawls to the shelf and pulls the books off, crawls to the couch, pulls herself up, and pulls my files onto the floor, yanks my computer cord and pulls it out of the computer, crawls to the fireplace and pulls up on the sharp stone ledge, grabbing handfuls of wood and ash in the process. She crawls to the trash and pulls it over. The laundry bin. The stool. The printer.
Good lord. I was so enjoying sitting and playing with her. Now it's going to be chasing her while she plays. It means constant cleaning so she doesn't eat every little speck in sight, it means covering all sharp edges, it means never letting her out of my sight. I was so, so content with the stationary baby. But the stationary baby has little left to explore, and will eventually branch out. Such is life. Now, what ELSE this means is that the more she moves, the more tired out she'll get. I guess each stage has its challenges and its benefits.
Regardless, having a baby is so much fun, and the most wonderful fulfilling thing in the world. I love watching the excitement and wonder with which she sees everything. We could learn a lot of lessons from babies. Everything can be looked at in a new light, change is constant, life is exciting, meeting new people is a good thing, be content with what you have, smile all the time and other people will smile too... It is cheezy but it's true. This child has turned my life around. Her wonder is my wonder. When life is good, I have Tessa. When all else fails, I have Tessa.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
one day at a time
Today, unlike yesterday and the day before, was a good day. It will be like this. some days will be terrible and I will be miserable, and some days I will feel good and optimistic. I dropped T off at daycare, picked up my uniform (scrubs) from Philly, drove back, ate lunch, picked T up, and went into New Hope to meet another mama and baby. This mama in particular was someone I knew from high school, haven't seen since then, but I have to say how much of a relief it is to find another mom friend here in NJ. I finally had great mom friends in Charlottesville and had to leave them. It was something I would miss more than a lot of things. My old friendships are no less wonderful, but there is something significant and important about having friends with children. You need to be able to relate, to share, to complain, to ask advice, to commiserate. So today I got to do that, and it was really good.
School starts on monday. Right now, I feel like I can do this, and I'm okay, and I can be happy. Today Tessa was happy and we smiled and laughed together and she wasn't cranky all day and miserable. She reminded me today why we are where we are. Because we are going to have a better life. This is all a learning curve... I'm going to have to figure it out as I go along, and as with anything, I will get used to it and it will be my norm. Eventually it will feel like it has always been this way. And then things will be okay and we will have the life that was the goal, the end result. I have this baby, this sweet, smart, feisty baby who has my smile and who, like me, is hard to make laugh... We are a team. We're going to do this together. She is my heart and soul, my motivation, my reason. I feel very mama-bear right now. I'm going to do this, and we're going to be okay.
I found this today. It was good to hear someone who does and feels the same way I do. She left her husband when her baby was a few months old.
http://mssinglemama.com/2007/11/19/single-motherhood-turns-out-not-so-easy-but-not-so-tough-either/#comments
School starts on monday. Right now, I feel like I can do this, and I'm okay, and I can be happy. Today Tessa was happy and we smiled and laughed together and she wasn't cranky all day and miserable. She reminded me today why we are where we are. Because we are going to have a better life. This is all a learning curve... I'm going to have to figure it out as I go along, and as with anything, I will get used to it and it will be my norm. Eventually it will feel like it has always been this way. And then things will be okay and we will have the life that was the goal, the end result. I have this baby, this sweet, smart, feisty baby who has my smile and who, like me, is hard to make laugh... We are a team. We're going to do this together. She is my heart and soul, my motivation, my reason. I feel very mama-bear right now. I'm going to do this, and we're going to be okay.
I found this today. It was good to hear someone who does and feels the same way I do. She left her husband when her baby was a few months old.
http://mssinglemama.com/2007/11/19/single-motherhood-turns-out-not-so-easy-but-not-so-tough-either/#comments
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
deep breath
so I heard through the grapevine single parenting was tough.... tough doesn't even cut it.
there are days when I literally convince myself that I am completely incapable of doing this on my own. i don't know if it is a phase or teething or the constant cold (thanks to daycare) but Tessa hasn't allowed me to leave her side. I get absolutely NOTHING done. Nothing is about me anymore. Nothing. And that is not a complaint. But it makes me feel really small, and really insecure, and weak. I feel like I am a slave to my life. There is so little pleasure right now, outside of the joy my daughter brings me. This is the hardest thing I have ever done. When I have a free moment, I am doing laundry, dishes, making bottles, preparing baby food, taking care of school stuff, running to appointments, washing diapers. I can barely fit in showering and making myself food. I don't even have time to eat. Everything I do revolves around Tessa. Don't take this as resentment- it's not. It is just the way things are. And it is fucking hard.
If I can barely make it right now, how will I ever make it when school starts and I have ten+ hour days plus homework and reading? When in my spare time, I have to study, how will I do the rest? This is where not being single would make life so much easier. Fuck, fuck, this is going to be so hard.
I chose this. This was my decision. I left, I thought I would be happier and a better mom. Instead, I feel completely incapable, selfish, and like I am abandoning my daughter by starting one of the most intense, hardest, and rigorous nursing programs in the country. How can I do this? How will I get through this? My daughter is going to forget about me and I will become so much less important to her. I won't be there to teach her, to watch her first steps, to hear her first words.
But I am doing this for her. It's all for her. Everything, every step I take, is for her. For her to have the best life, the happiest life.
I am barely going to see my daughter for the next year, and it is ripping my heart out of my chest. I feel like the worst person in the world. I feel like I don't deserve her. I feel like I make the worst choices and like I am not strong enough or tough enough to get through this year. I am a wreck already, trying to get by as a single parent who gets to stay home with her daughter. Add to that this intense program. It is fucking killing me.
Single mother. Single mother. Single mother. It still hasn't sunk in. I cringe every time I see two parents with a baby. I can barely speak to friends of mine who have happy relationships and are parents together. That should have been me.
But do you stay with someone who makes you feel so terrible all the time, someone who doesn't want the same things as you, someone who wants to be in control all the time, who cares so much about appearance but not about truth, who says black only because I say white, who can't grow up, can't settle down, blames all the problems on everyone else, never takes responsibility, is too old to just be starting out, who hasn't changed a bit since becoming a parent, who finds their baby to be a novelty and not a real and serious responsibility? I could go on.
I made the decision, I am starting school, I am not going to see Tessa, I will have no social life, I will be miserable and stressed.
God damn it, no one told me life would be this fucking hard.
But this promise to myself- after this year, when I am done with school, I will see the benefits huge and everlasting, and I will make the life I want to live. I will be the person I want to be, I will be thankful that I made it through the hardest time in my life, I will be stronger and smarter and more capable.I will have a solid career for the rest of my life. I will be able to support myself and my daughter, ON MY OWN. That is huge. I will have the hang of single parenting. I will make the best of it. I will find happiness again, and I will be the best mother in the fucking world. And maybe, just maybe, someday I will find someone worthy to share my life with. For now that doesn't matter. But maybe someday. FInd my joy in Tessa, be grateful for the gift of motherhood, be thankful I have wonderful support. I promise these things to myself.
I will be okay. One year. One year.
there are days when I literally convince myself that I am completely incapable of doing this on my own. i don't know if it is a phase or teething or the constant cold (thanks to daycare) but Tessa hasn't allowed me to leave her side. I get absolutely NOTHING done. Nothing is about me anymore. Nothing. And that is not a complaint. But it makes me feel really small, and really insecure, and weak. I feel like I am a slave to my life. There is so little pleasure right now, outside of the joy my daughter brings me. This is the hardest thing I have ever done. When I have a free moment, I am doing laundry, dishes, making bottles, preparing baby food, taking care of school stuff, running to appointments, washing diapers. I can barely fit in showering and making myself food. I don't even have time to eat. Everything I do revolves around Tessa. Don't take this as resentment- it's not. It is just the way things are. And it is fucking hard.
If I can barely make it right now, how will I ever make it when school starts and I have ten+ hour days plus homework and reading? When in my spare time, I have to study, how will I do the rest? This is where not being single would make life so much easier. Fuck, fuck, this is going to be so hard.
I chose this. This was my decision. I left, I thought I would be happier and a better mom. Instead, I feel completely incapable, selfish, and like I am abandoning my daughter by starting one of the most intense, hardest, and rigorous nursing programs in the country. How can I do this? How will I get through this? My daughter is going to forget about me and I will become so much less important to her. I won't be there to teach her, to watch her first steps, to hear her first words.
But I am doing this for her. It's all for her. Everything, every step I take, is for her. For her to have the best life, the happiest life.
I am barely going to see my daughter for the next year, and it is ripping my heart out of my chest. I feel like the worst person in the world. I feel like I don't deserve her. I feel like I make the worst choices and like I am not strong enough or tough enough to get through this year. I am a wreck already, trying to get by as a single parent who gets to stay home with her daughter. Add to that this intense program. It is fucking killing me.
Single mother. Single mother. Single mother. It still hasn't sunk in. I cringe every time I see two parents with a baby. I can barely speak to friends of mine who have happy relationships and are parents together. That should have been me.
But do you stay with someone who makes you feel so terrible all the time, someone who doesn't want the same things as you, someone who wants to be in control all the time, who cares so much about appearance but not about truth, who says black only because I say white, who can't grow up, can't settle down, blames all the problems on everyone else, never takes responsibility, is too old to just be starting out, who hasn't changed a bit since becoming a parent, who finds their baby to be a novelty and not a real and serious responsibility? I could go on.
I made the decision, I am starting school, I am not going to see Tessa, I will have no social life, I will be miserable and stressed.
God damn it, no one told me life would be this fucking hard.
But this promise to myself- after this year, when I am done with school, I will see the benefits huge and everlasting, and I will make the life I want to live. I will be the person I want to be, I will be thankful that I made it through the hardest time in my life, I will be stronger and smarter and more capable.I will have a solid career for the rest of my life. I will be able to support myself and my daughter, ON MY OWN. That is huge. I will have the hang of single parenting. I will make the best of it. I will find happiness again, and I will be the best mother in the fucking world. And maybe, just maybe, someday I will find someone worthy to share my life with. For now that doesn't matter. But maybe someday. FInd my joy in Tessa, be grateful for the gift of motherhood, be thankful I have wonderful support. I promise these things to myself.
I will be okay. One year. One year.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
yoga babies
By the way, before I left, my mom and my beautiful friend Natalie threw me a going away party. It was wonderful, of course. But I think the highlight for me was this moment:
These ladies and I were in prenatal yoga together. Jen, far right, was our instructor. It was how natalie and I became close, and how I met amelia and jen, who ended up being my birth coach.
I love my friends to death, all of them, but it has been really special going through pregnancy and childbirth and early motherhood with friends who know exactly how you feel.
However, I am a really lucky gal for having such lovely, wonderful friends in general.
These ladies and I were in prenatal yoga together. Jen, far right, was our instructor. It was how natalie and I became close, and how I met amelia and jen, who ended up being my birth coach.
I love my friends to death, all of them, but it has been really special going through pregnancy and childbirth and early motherhood with friends who know exactly how you feel.
However, I am a really lucky gal for having such lovely, wonderful friends in general.
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