Home is where the cobbler is.

Today I had orientation in the hospital where I will actually be working, the 5th floor, a general surgical unit. I met my nurse manager, and then was partnered up with a regular nurse aide to learn what a typical day would look like. She was a sweet girl from NY, who had a daughter and a pit bull. She showed me around a little, but there wasn't much to the work so I wandered off on my own. In between exploring, I went to the break room to eat a little snack. Of course as soon as I did that, my nurse manager walked in. I was so embarrassed! She did not seem to mind though, and we talked for a while about my job and how neither one of us knew exactly what I would be doing. I made a mental note to only pack snacks that could be carried in my pocket from now on, finished eating, and went back to see if there was anything I could do. While asking the nurses if I could help them, one british nurse took me up on my offer and had me change all of the full "sharps" boxes in the patients rooms. (Sharps boxes are where we put small, hazardous material such as needles.) I was glad to have something to help pass the time. One nurse said to me "honey, count your blessings," implying that I should be glad they were not busy. Before my orientation ended, I went back to my nurse manager's office to go over my future schedule. She told me more about my job and how she can tell I am eager to learn. She also told me that the british nurse had come up to her and mentioned me saying, "I don't know who that girl is, but you did a good job hiring her." It made me happy to hear that I made a good impression, but I don't want to get caught up in that.

After my day, I came home and was welcomed by the smell of peach cobbler. YUMMM. I feel like we have had some type of cobbler every night this past week. Maybe because of how close we are to the farmers market and the fact that cobbler is stinkin easy to make? It's like I am at one of those camps from tv. Actually, I have been pleasantly surprised by the joy coming home to a house full of girls brings. Whether we talk or not, knowing that someone is there is comforting. It feels like a family. A few of the girls ended up cooking indonesian stir-fry for all of us for dinner. I did dishes and some laundry in exchange. I felt like I was someone's husband, coming home from 8 hour work day to a sweet aroma of homemade goodness. Luckily there were no children to tend to... I don't think I would have minded snuggling and reading a bedtime story though. Oh wait, my roommates do that with me too!

I am soooo tired. Working a full time job is a lot harder than I thought. Maybe growing up isn't all it is cracked up to be.