So, I have an exam to sit, which is very cool, but quite scary. Especially because I run into a lot of people who’ve failed, or know people who’ve failed. Of course, I realise, that my sample selection is probably somewhat skewed, in that if you passed the NCLEX, you’re probably working in America. I’ve just been cheerfully informed I’ve got until the 17th of December to complete the examination successfully. Which is… not that long. I mean, I was intending to take it before then anyway, but having someone else impose that deadline is moderately terrifying.
But hey.
Secondly, my beloved Minor has gone off to gain a new gearbox, back axle, diff, and front brakes. This should make her safer and easier to drive, and stop her making unpleasant noises. However, the funding for that comes from shifts with my nursing agency…
…and I have seen far fewer shifts available. Although I did manage to get two shifts that I need this week…
so… trying not to concentrate on that too much.
And in positives – the Prius passed its MOT (first try, only one advisory, incredibly).
We have spent the last few days doing frantic cleaning and tidying. There have been one two many trips to the tip, which have removed a lot of crap from the house and for the most part managed to land it in the recycling. My car has become what I am currently referring to as the travelling crap ferry as small random items (like, for example, the stuff I’m wanting to offer John) lurks in there waiting for a chance to be taken somewhere. And indeed, it’s joined by other exciting things, like the small amount of ‘hard plastic’ that didn’t make it to the tip to go into the ‘hard plastic recycling’.
The house now looks awesome, if markedly less like our house. Pictures of us and the people we love have disappeared. They’ve been snunk into corners and boxes, so that people without imagination can picture themselves in the space.
Despite the windows having been washed by someone yesterday we were very unhappy with the finish, so I frantically ran to the store and got a squeegee on a stick, then hung out of the windows cleaning like a loon.
Kathryn’s washed/hoovered/swept all over the place. Our wedding dresses have gone off to be dry-cleaned, thus vaporising the two piles of plastic-coated merangue that have occupied the top of the wardrobe… I’ve precariously stacked the very, very heavy record boxes on what was once an ikea bathroom stool in our under-stairs cupboard. By doing so it means the hoover can live where it was always meant to live (out of sight…).
We really take this showing our house thing pretty seriously.
I hope to hell that we get at least a decent offer, if not a couple, out of this weekend. Then we can get on with the rest of the stressful moving m’larkey.
I say this because I’m now at the stage of waking up at 2-3 frickin’ AM most nights just to feel angsty, then to work my way back to sleep. Which is moderately tedious.
Breathing exercises… and moving. Then it’ll be time to take a bit of a breather. Yes.
