Really, Dove?

“Hey, babe, what time did you have to catch the bus this morning?” Brandon’s voice cut through my lovely dreamy state.

Instantly my body was on alert. Despite my eyemask, I could tell there was way too much Seattle sunlight coming through our window. “Seven twenty-seven.”

“You better get going. It’s 7:08.”

S!” I hollered but don’t tell my step-girls because I can’t afford to lose any quarters—more on that later. The next second I was ripping off my eyemask, hopping out of bed and my pajamas in one swoop, and dashing into our bathroom.

“Can I help?” I hear him calling from the bed.

I brushed my teeth while giving him instructions on how to cook my steelcut oats. The shower was probably the quickest, most efficient one I’ve had in months. After dashing some makeup on my face pulling my hair into a messy bun, and jumping into my scrubs, I ran downstairs and simultaneously put my shoes and coat on.

God bless my husband. He’d thrown my lunch into my lunch bag, made coffee, and had my oatmeal sitting out waiting for me. All while barely awake and freezing in his boxer shorts.

I kissed his sweet face, flew down our second set of stairs to the car, and zoomed out of our complex.

“Please make it! Please make it!” I thought as I waited at the light. I don’t know where to park around the hospital that doesn’t cost a small fortune. Plus, I cannot be late because I’m still on orientation. That would definitely not make the type of impression that I’d like to leave with my employers.

Fortunately I made the bus. Even though it was two minutes early. This meant I had gotten ready in 13 minutes flat.

As I sat in the cozy bus warmth, still not awake, I ran through my morning so far. I was sure I’d forgotten something. And yes, yes I had. Deodorant.


Texting the hubby of my success and unfortunate discovery, his cute reply was, “Oh crap! Oh well… You will just be stinky one day.”

Hopefully my patients felt the same way.

My morning was pretty good. I actually just shadowed a nurse who worked in a different part of the clinic. In fact, I thankfully didn’t work up much of a sweat until she asked me to find a chart behind “Thowieurley’s desk”. Who whaaaa?? I still haven’t learned all my co-workers names.

S. So off I went, hoping I was headed in vaguely the right direction. I looked in all the drawers behind the all the schedulers and couldn’t find it. Awesome.

Suddenly it was lunchtime and food made me happy for a quick moment. Then I realized I need to buy more bus passes because I’d used the last one this morning. Unfortunately, the cashier informed me that they no longer sold the $3 passes (which I needed) but had some $2.25 ones and I could “just make up the difference with quarters”.

Well, son of a B! All my quarters are in the swear jar at home! And it just chaffs my butt to think about paying $4.50 for a $3 ride.


The afternoon was a breeze. I got to shadow another nurse that I used to work with so catching up on all the personal stuff was fun. But I still hadn’t really woken up yet. And I was starting to get cramps. Oh yes, Mother Nature and her lovely gift are haunting me this week. Plus, as an extra bonus, she brought me a big ol’ zit, right by my nose. Super duper awesome.

Probably the biggest bonus of the day was getting off two hours earlier than normal. In fact, I managed to find some quarters so I took the $3 direct bus home.

I was feeling pretty good. Until about 10 minutes into the ride. Why was I queasy? I shut my eyes, hoping that this would help. Negative, Ghost Rider!

I used to be awesome at reading and riding. I’d lie down in the back seat and read a whole friggin’ book while my dad took his Sunday drive. Nowadays, I’m toast if I even try to look up directions on my phone. And apparently I also get bus-sick.


While trying to decide if I needed to open up my lunch bag and barf into it (amidst 50+ strangers), I remembered that I keep a piece of chocolate with me at all times. For emergencies. And since everyone knows that chocolate fixes about 99.999% of problems, well, just maybe it would fix mine.

I opened my Dove dark chocolate piece very carefully. And then nearly laughed aloud at the “inspiration” inside.


What exactly do you mean, Dove? I was sitting there, showered but not deodorized with messy hair, running makeup that didn’t quite cover my own personal Vesuvius, dressed in professional pajamas, having massive back cramps and overwhelming nausea.

At that point I was pretty sure I was an insult to most senses. Thanks anyways for the thought, Dove. You’re so kind.


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