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3:13 a.m. - 2014-09-18
things that get on my nerves.
Nursing school is in full swing, ick ick. For the most part I like school and clinical, but the balance of staying up till 1 am looking up meds and doing care plans, and reviewing my kids homework, packing lunches, sorting through (their) school folders, working, etc., is already getting old. I don't have time to do much thinking or living. I start clinical at 6:55 am and I am sick of people by the end of the day. The last thing I want to do whenever I make it to bed is snuggle up to my spouse. The second-to-last thing I want to do is have a conversation with anybody. My spouse included.

She is getting on my nerves and I am trying not to show it because it's not fair or nice. She is obsessed with this online horror publishing company and has started getting advance copies and proofreading manuscripts and become online friends with a bunch of authors and fans. Suddenly I am getting multiple daily updates on this soap opera of fans, writers, editors and publishers whose names I can't keep straight and don't care to keep straight either. I dislike horror and don't read it (I think it's sick and a waste of time), and I have a horror of self-published authors and rabid fans of anything. I mean, seriously, get a life. These people -- I don't mean A but I mean most of the fellow online horror book club fans she's become friends with -- are unemployed or underemployed and seriously need to find something productive to do other than create this whole online saga around people they'e never met. OK, ironic that I am writing this in an online diary, but I don't give my wife 20 updates a day aabout the lives of my fellow online diarists. No offense, but I have an offline life.

A gets into these little online worlds and drives me bugshit with them. The last one was the backyard chicken people and before that it was the bird forum, the ferret forum and the chinchilla forum. In favor of the horror forum, at least horror novels don't shit all over my bedroom or the backyard. So I encouraged it. And still prefer it. But that is not to say it isn't highly taxing to the nerves to hear about what Mike (who the fuck is he) said about Joe (who the fuck is he?) on his blog. I feign interest, and probably badly. I remind myself that I am probably not the most interesting person for her to listen to sometimes, but she never tells me so.

On top of that I think she is becoming a hypochondriac about herself as well as her pets. Of course, the fact that I am a student nurse notwithstanding, I am the kind of person who doesn't go to the doctor unless I am pregnant or a body part is falling off. Since the former has only happened twice and the latter has never happened, my doctor visits are pretty much limited to physicals for school and work. A seems to be going all time, like every week. I know she really is allergic to everything, but the last two visits, for a cut from a vial at work and a finger she jammed on the washing machine, seem kind of overdramatized to me. She whines and is horrified by her first blister (from using a hatchet) and her first burn that blistered; probably she would have gone to the doctor about those too if I hadn't been so underimpressed. I mean, seriously? Did you ever do any serious work or leave your house to go somewhere that wasn't padded or air conditioned before you met me? I deal with really, really sick and dying people who minimize their illnesses all day and then I go home and hear about A's visit to the dr for her jammed finger, for which, after x-rays showed it wasn't broken, she was prescribed a tape-on drugstore splint. I can't tell you how many jammed joints, burns, deep cuts, sprains and strains I've had in my life or even over the past summer working on the house, becasuse I don't pay attention and don't keep track and I definitely don't see the doctor. oh well, enough ranting. i have to get up for school soon.

I think I will be able to bite my tongue for a while longer now.



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