It’s bad when your housemate has to ask if black the duct-tape is yours.
It’s really bad when she does it having picked it up off the floor of her bedroom.
It’s bad when your housemate has to ask if black the duct-tape is yours.
It’s really bad when she does it having picked it up off the floor of her bedroom.
So, the last few days have been a bit weird for me – most of my IM friends have been working loads since I came back from my mum, so I’ve kind-of been sat here going ‘hrm’ a lot. Visiting my mum is always a bit… hard. Good, but hard.
I did spend quite a while wondering whether I should go to the Student dinner thing; I’m kind of not sure. I think the thing is, I went to a school reunion once, way back, and felt like a third thumb so I’m a bit phobic about these things. I guess I just don’t know the people on my course that well. But if I don’t go – well, it’s a bit of a vicious circle really.
I also need to book some shifts at A&E now I’ve had my induction. Yeah. I need some cash. The induction was weird. I don’t think she entirely knew why I was there; I didn’t know either; and yeah, it ended up with us wandering round and looking at the place and her asking me what seemed (to me) ‘interview’ style questions.
At any rate, it looks like I might be able to head to A&E there as *well*, but as she said, they don’t take people until they’ve got 9 months experience, by which time I’m hoping to be well into preparations for ‘buggering off’. I know it’s pathetic, but I’m feeling a bit crap about Valentines this year; so I bought myself something (how sad is that) – a couple (well a few, technically) of the books I’ve wanted for ages… Ohh, I should move them off the wants page (hang on…). Ah, ironically, I didn’t know one of the things was available; and two of the books didn’t make it on there… Ooops.
Anyway. Yeah. Now see, I’m missing my online people (none of them being online)… Although my hands are hurting the way they used to when I was in IT. Part of that’s my appauling posture at the computer.
I actually got off my arse today and washed my car – and Laurens (oooh, the generosity). I also hoovered the interior – my car now looks moderately respectable again – less so since I sprayed a variety of the seams which are in need of attention with penetrating oil again, so the shinyness was short lived. But while I was washing the car I saw the water was still running off the bits I’d sprayed before, so it’s doing it’s thing.
If this seems disjointed and tired, it’s because I’m all disjointed and tired… :-)
I’ve got to stop hanging around chatting to people on IM instead of:
– sleeping
– working
– going out
I love them, they’re great, but I miss actually talking to people (with my voice) and seeing them… and to be honest, because most of the people I know live in other countries I’m trying to talk to them when they’re half asleep, at work, or I’m half asleep.
The problem is, every time I go about getting a life, I meet someone, end up in a relationship then I don’t give a shit about having a life because I’m with someone and I’m quite happy. So. Yeah. Time to get off my arse.
In other news, Life on Mars again rocked today. Now I’m going to bed.
Today is the last day for 100,000 miles that my blue mog will display entirely binary numbers on the mileometer. Having a mileometer which only goes to 99,999.9 miles means that she rolled over 100,000 and I had the pleasure of driving my instantly low milage car for a while.
Since then I’ve periodically been entertained by having binary mileages… 001001 and so on, ooh and the palendromic 100001. I have a thing for numbers anyway, and so yeah, entertained by them. But today we passed 111111 miles. I thought about stopping for a photo, but fortunately I was on the motorway and couldn’t.
…one of those hard days. A day when I just feel vaguely and unplaceably less happy than I should / think I should / y’know? There’s no reason for me to be down.
It’s probably a sign of why I want to go in for councelling – I’d stopped having days like this so much – and now they’ve started again, I don’t like it. I’m not sure why I have days like today. Anyway, there’s a couple of newsworthy things; I’m not sharing with the entire world at large, because I’m selfish.
Apparently, the Emergency Dept at the hospital I did my Emergency Dept / High Care placement at have arranged it that individuals from our cohort, who were so damn good (did you see my head swell then?), can go back and work in A&E directly after we qualify. This is very good news, so long as I actually qualify. Which I will, I know, but it’s still a bit scary the quantity of work that’s waiting for me.
I should be working now. Natasha, who I’m on placement with, seems to be way more on top of her work; it’s quite scary. Still. There’s this week ahead of me when I’ve got to… do a *lot*. But, fuck, it’s scary.
Anyway, ignoring that. It’s good news. (more…)
To earn an entire flight to Vancouver on Air Miles, I need to earn 70,000 nectar points. I’m starting at 6,000 points. I think I may have been out by a factor of 10 somewhere(!). Doh!
Anyway, I think I’ll be on about 10,000 points (or more, if I do shopping at Sainsburys) at the end of the placement – if I only spent money on my ‘American Express Nectar card’ I’d’ve had to spend a minimum of 17,500 pounds to get a flight to Vancouver (mind, I’ve not played with dates). So…
If I then carry on commuting, then I’ll continue to rack up points at a shocking rate.
Anyway, it still looks do-able, if not as cheap as I’d hoped. And the cheapest flights, insanely, go via Amsterdam. Obviously I need to fly to Amsterdam *first*…
So, Just got an e-mail back from the nice and shiny people at ICBC – apparently my driving record in the UK does entitle me to some degree of discount from them. It requires a full letter on headed paper from my insurance company – but, this is definately good news.
I’m waiting on one from the nice licency people. Make them be nice to me.
So, it’s nearly time for another episode of Life on Mars. Which rocks.
And tonight we had an experimental dinner which, presuming I don’t go down with hideous food poisoning, was incredibly yummy and included freshly made and baked semi-flatbread. ’twas most pleasing, especially since it looked a bit disasterous.
I also had a very enjoyable day work wise. For the first time in MSSU I felt actually useful – I had 4 patients to myself, I organised their care delivery, and y’know what? I was okay. Everything got done, and I felt darn spiffy. I have however, done no work. But stuff that. Another Early Tomorrow…
I had a bit of a bout of lonliness last night, probably contributed to my lousy sleep – and the dream which has remained *just* out of reach. It’s rare for me to dream, but I know I’ve had this one before, and recently. And I thought ‘I want to remember this’ as I woke up and forgot it. Which sucked.
So, um, yeah. I have *nothing* exciting to say.
I’ll shut up.
Okay, those who read my journal *years* ago, might remember the AA poster. That was a result of the company I was working for closing, and me having too much time. This (clicky clicky) is a result of a discussion on the MZ Riders Messagegroup. I wish I recorded where I got the images from.
The text isn’t by me, just the thrown together design.
So, Kate (no, not myself, ‘meriKate) said something to me yesterday and it’s one that’s quite a good point – it was about not underestimating the trauma and challenge of moving to a different culture – and I guess, like a lot of things, if you look at my ‘Canada’ thoughts from the outside it probably does look like I’m not considering it ‘seriously’ (incidentally, I don’t think that’s what she thought, but I think that’s the way it could come across, with my chaotic and slightly lighthearted approach to life).
But the truth is, for all my lightheartedness it occupies my mind the whole time. In both not-very-serious ways (for example, pondering what it’ll be like to have the gearlever on the wrong side of me (bear in mind I drive a manual / stick-shift car, not an automatic, so I’ll actually have to get used to shifting through the gate right-instead-of-left-handed). And looking at the road and thinking, hell, I’ll be on the other side.
More seriously though, I find myself wondering how I’ll cope, cutting myself off from my friends, from my family, placing myself in a culture which – while it has similarities to European culture is quite definately distinct from Europe – and more so from Britain. Leaving behind everything I know and landing in a country where I understand how nothing works; where I understand none of the goverment / civil functions.
I have a small flavour for it now; trying to find out how to register a car over there – and what requirements it has to meet. Here I know – because I’ve lived here my entire life – I just contact the DVLA. If I want to insure that car – and I have to before I can drive it – I ring an insurance company (of my choice); or I can go to an insurance broker. Before that car goes anywhere else, I know it’ll have to pass either an SVA or an MOT. I *know* how it all works.
I know which government offices to ask which questions, when I don’t I know who to ask who I should be asking. It’s part of being brought up somewhere – the stuff is kind of diffused into you, you absorb the information, because it’s all gradual.
But changing country? I won’t know this stuff.
And I won’t know anyone, bar the people I’ve met online. And as has previously been mentioned, Canada’s really big. My friends, my family, none of them will be remotely reachable. It’s scary. But like riding the nemesis, I need scary.
I am not happy with my life, I am not happy with the UK, and I am not happy with the NHS.
I fell in love with Alaska. Let’s be clear on this, if Alaska had a public healthcare system, that’s where I’d’ve been aiming to go. Well, that and Bush wasn’t in charge of the US. Seriously, I loved the place. It’s gorgeous, incredible, beautiful. But I can’t. I have sacrificed many of my morals and opinions to stay on the nursing course, I’ve not been out in my placements – and I’m not someone who stays closeted well – I’ve stopped buying ethically produced goods and foods, because I just can’t afford my beliefs. I gave up my chance of buying a house to do this course. And I regret not one thing about doing so. But I’m unable to give up one thing – my real and total belief that healthcare should be available based on need, not on ability to pay.
Any culture which fails to recognise that… well, I find it disturbing.
I tried to consider working for a non-profit / charitable health care place, of which I’m lead to believe there are some, but I’d just be frustrated – more so than buy the state of the NHS – by it all.
So, Canada – scenery wise there are areas which give me the chance of living somewhere that looks very similar to Alaska – so hopefully I can fall in love with it in the same way. Vancouver looks to be a very beautiful city too; which should help…
Canada, culturally, seems to have similarities to European culture – which is a positive as far as I’m concerned. And it has proper public health care.
But just finding a country beautiful? Why do I want to leave mine? Why not just visit?
Well – that’s where the state of things in the UK comes into play. I’m British. I’m very British, just ask my friends. But I’m British in a way which doesn’t seem to fit with modern Britain; I guess I’m British the way that people seemed to suggest that Britain was when I was brought up. Culturally accepting, proud of Britain but also circumspect about it’s historical acts, slightly startled by it’s emmense influence on the world given it’s small size, strong believer in a social / societal support system, public health care, public ownership of utilities… That sort of British.
And Britain isn’t the place I want to be anymore, civil liberties seem to be becoming optional. The separation of church and state seems to have disappeared, the education of the next generation… well, intelligent design, need I say more? I know the NHS is struggling – not least because every 30 seconds a new government policy changes the priorities of the NHS – and the staff are left desparately trying to treat people in run down old buildings with insufficent equipment, insufficent staff, and with managers who don’t understand that cutting care in one area will inevitably lead to more care somewhere else.
And to round it off nicely, the studies suggest that the state pension will disappear before I’m old enough to get it – yet I will have to continue to pay for it until then; the NHS pension is going to disappear too – they want to remove the final salary pension… the one thing, which for me, meant that staying in the NHS was reasonable.
Offering a 2% pay rise – the UK’s inflation rate is higher – so essentially a pay cut is the icing on the cake. The pay’s so lousy I can’t afford a decent private pension; and this year it looks like my probable pay will go down. So, really, what have I got to look forward with this? A life of scraping by followed by a retirement of being too poor.
To give the one other thing, the UK is filled with reminders of my past. My past is something I’m alternately proud of and distressed by. But at any rate, although I’ll take the problems it’s given me with me, some of the reminders that the UK provides won’t be there.
And finally. I need a kick up the arse. I work best under stressful circumstances, and I’ve been taking the easy route far to often in my life. This time it’s time for me to do what I think I should.
Well, that’s it really. That’s why I want to leave, and why I want to go to Canada.