My spank hand, it is strong*

All of you at home can play along with this mental exercise.

Aaaannnnddd begin ....

For those of you just tuning in, a change is happening in the House of Hall. Namely, we are moving four hours away from our house. The first step began today, with moving Mrs. Hall (that's me). In the following weeks my tribe, including daughter Pancake (age five), Mac (age 2) and Mr. Hall (age 40) will follow.

There are a number of ways I can process this and present it here, in this blog. The easiest is the most crabbiest. I can lament and wail for hours. I can go into some detail about what this means and how it makes me feel.

But, I wouldn't want to read that, and neither should you.

Hence, I will look to the positive. I will fill my lungs with good clean air and be energized. I will talk about this in terms that lift me up and hopefully you too. After all, no one likes a whiner.

SO! Hear me now, o negative, self pity thoughts in Mrs. Hall's head! Hear this now!

My spank hand, it is strong. And when you gather in the fog, my spank hand will get twitchy and surely a smack will be delivered with the utmost speed. Oh yes, my spank hand, it is strong.

Wait, wait . . . .

Perhaps that is a bit strong. After all, don't all my feelings and thoughts deserve to be? After all, if we deny what we feel, it just pushes it down. And then it grows into a Zombie and really, it gets all sorts of stinky. Not that I don't like Zombies, in fact I loooove Zombies. I just don't want to be one.

The key, I think, is balance. And to admit that I am very, very scared. Also, I must reach out to Mr. Hall, to my friends, to Yoga and dog walking. I must ask for help when I am overwhelmed. These things up there, in this paragraph, these are not strong skills of mine. I am a 98 lb weakling in this respect.

So, this will change, right now. I will give myself credit for being cooler and smarter than I actually realize. I will think of myself as capable of anything. I will not numb up and shut off. I will not fall into the traps of anxiety and wanting to control everything around me. I will let go and let God.

I will realize all that I breathe and feel tunnels directly into my children and for that, I will be their superhero through all of this. I will be who they think I am. SPOON!!

Aaaaaannnnnddddd breathe . . . . .

This right here, is a moment. This is not the entire journey, but just a moment.

There, this feels better eh?

I know I do.

Take care everyone

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
*I can say with the utmost authority no actual physical spanking occurs in the House of Hall. No spanks for Mrs. Hall or Mr. Hall. No spanks for Pancake or Mac. Really people, it is just a metaphor. Trust me.

Salad days of yore

First day of my new job went well. Well, it was 8 hours a sitting through orientation. Power point, power point, power point . . . . two more days like this. Man o man!

Can't complain though, no longer will I have drive, drive, drive. No more home health. No more flicking roaches off my red back pack.

This looks to be a thin week in terms of blogging. In fact, I may have to slow the train a bit overall. At my new job, I will be responsible for all sorts of things. No more blogging on company time. After all, I don't have the company laptop anymore.

People come to me now. They come to see me and I will charge them. I am thusly responsible for 'production numbers' aka seeing a certain amount of patients in my office each day. They and their insurance company will get their monies worth!

I can't wait to see my office. (squeek!)

But, what I will lack in quantity of posts, I hope to make up for in quality (I hope anyway). The salad days of slacking at will are over. ;)

So for, let's entertain ourselves with this little ditty. And remember the salad days of Miss Holly Madison.

:)



RRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVEERRRRR!!!!!!!

Dressing like a grownup

Those boots people. Look at them. Love them.

Often, a woman is not satisfied with how she looks unless she is calm within herself. This will be my challenge as I go about growing up.

My look, right now, is best described as stylish, thrift-store chic Mom. That is only on weekends and at night. During my day, as I go about tending to those living in the ghetto, well, I wear a lot of Goodwill clothes. My patients are often heavy, heavy smokers. My clothes get all funked up. So, I wear clothes that are clean and such. But they are Goodwill quality.

I am about to transition from the home health care to a real clinic. I will have my own office (squeak with delight!) And while those that walk through my office door may be disheveled, I feel it is my duty to look put together and attractive. Wearing just a touch of make-up.

After all, if you are in my office, you are most likely not feeling well. Not feeling well in the head. That carries it's own special kind of scary. Like being on a plane that is experiencing turbulence. You look to the stewardess to see if she is freaking out. But she is not, she is there, all put together, hair untosselled.

This is also why I am going to be starting a boot camp. I have lost 35 lbs but I am a weakling. I plan to building girly guns to help lift my patients up. And as I advise them about their self care, I want them to see I walk the walk.

There are a few barriers here. I don't shop well. Especially for pants. No woman likes shopping for pants. If you are a man, you only have to know two numbers for this task. Even if you land on Mars, you can still walk into a store blindfolded, and tell the salesgirl those two numbers and viola! Pants that fit.

For women it goes like this (to the salesgirl on Mars): Ahem, I am Mrs. Hall and in the Juniors section I am a size 9-11, Missess section, 4-6.

Go ahead, ask any woman what her jean size is. If she doesn't give you two sets of ranges then she is lying. Wait, don't ever ask a woman what her jeans size is. Bad idea.

OK THEN, MOVING ON.

Another barrier is that I am profoundly cheap. Hence the mountains of crappy, dollar store clothes that don't fit right. This is not the grown up way of shopping.

Thus, tonight I shopped for an hour and half. Tried on 50 some pairs of pants to find 2 that fit correctly. But that is not all. For the last year or so I have been slowly acquiring dresses.

O MY DEAR LORD IN HEAVEN!

At my new job, I get to wear dresses every day. That fact alone has made the student loans more palpable.

And I must say. I was kind of shocked while trying on those pants. I don't actually have full length mirrors at my house. So, I am still very surprised at my new, fit body. And I must say, I do look smoking in my new pants. But, in a very grown up way.

Job update!

Remember this post (click here)

Well, on the way home, they called and offered me the job.

And yes, oh yes, I said yes.

NOW, my task this weekend:

Driving The Tribe Called Hall four hours away, looking at apartments, day cares and schools. We are moving for my new job within the month. This weekend is all about getting the lay of the land before we move.

And we will be staying with my parents.

Lord help us all.

Have a good weekend.

What are ya'll up to this weekend?

Second interview: Reserved edition

I drove there a few nights ago. Slept in a little and went to the interview place. Met with the receptionist and she lead me to the interview room.

There sat about forty staff. It was the largest group interview I had ever had. After that group listened to my story, my professional exploits and adventures, they all left and four doctors remained.

Me and the four doctors chatted. Spoke clinical speak. I was very intimidated.

And tired. This driving four hours to new interview places is wearing me out.

And telling my story over and over again is wearing me out. The weight of my decisions are wearing me out.

I hope it went well. I mean, I was sitting in a room with four doctors. Doctors and nurses have different training, different language. We do the same things though. Treat patients. And while everyone practices differently, we all have the same goals. Hopefully.

It was very weird. I mean, who walks into an interview and finds forty people waiting there? And then gets a second go round of questions and answers with four people. But, they kept having me go to more rooms and find out more things. And they were having a pot luck and wanted me to join.

Have some cheesecake! Have some of that ambrosia salad! Well worth the time to try the sloppy joes!

Or Spanish hamburgers as it is called around these parts.

It was about three hours into the interview at this part. I literally had to excuse myself at this point. I have to drive back I said.

It was nice and weird at all the same time. I hope I rose to the occasion.

I wasn't on my full game though. I was . . . . reserved. Normally I am bouncy and confident. But this is me as a nurse. I am a now a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner. Still getting my feet on the ground.

What helped was my wardrobe. I had my black, knee high leather boots on. The ones with the four inch heal. I had a pretty dress and my hair all cute. Wore make up. Smiled and spoke.

But speaking in these types of interviews is very different. There are no stock questions like 'What is your greatest weakness or Where do you see yourself in 10 years?'

It is, "How comfortable are you with prescribing these types of drugs?" or "What is your experience with this type of patient population with x or y diagnosis?" And honestly there are pockets of certain populations and diagnosis I have never seen. And some I understand like the back of my hand.

And I try my best to stay concrete and in the here and now. I try not to lapse into waxing poetic or getting all philosophical. And I remember that the majority of people in the science fields (i.e. MEDICINE) are not artsy like me. So I let my right brain show more.

Which is not something I am use to. Speaking from the right brain. And again, there was a language barrier to content with. Doctors are trained one way and nurses another. Each with its on shorthand and vernacular. I wonder if I made sense. I actually ask them this. They assure me that I do indeed make sense. God I hope I did.

And I was so very honest. I say things that I haven't rehearsed. I say things I haven't said out loud before.

All in all it was hard to read them. The interviewers. There was no head nodding or agreeing with me. Just listening and reservedness. And there was some warmth at the end. But, I am not sure if they got me, or perhaps they saw me as I am.

A brand new Psych-NP. I am barely a fetus at this point. My heart is strong and I am starting to wiggle. And given the right place I will grow ten feet tall.

I hope, I think, this is the right place. I hope they think so too. After all, they have cheesecake.

Time for booze

Basically, if you look in monster.com or medhunters.com for job listings it goes like this:

Registered Nurse: 100,000,000,0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 (in the united states)

Nurse Practitioner (primary care or family care):
20,0000,0000000000000000000000

Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner:
3
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am a specialist. A niche if you will. Limits the job options. But, I am getting better responses to my resume now that I am certified and am this close to getting my state license to prescribe.

My interview went fabulous. I always interview well. I am articulate, skilled and most of all, they need a prescriber. I can and will prescribe psychotropic medications and be responsible for everything those medications do the patient. I carry this weight, but it is not heavy. I know what kind of nurse I am and presented myself as such. And again, they need me.

So I took advantage of this. I didn't do all that I normally do for an interview. No spray tan, no knee high, black leather boots with the three inch heels. No perfect hair, no perfect portfolio. Just my favorite summer dress, painted toes and a folder with my info.

No prepared answers, no corporate energies. Just me, laying out who I am, what I can do for patients. How I feel about being a nurse. They guy kept nodding and saying 'right, right' and 'that is so true'. I was preaching to the choir.

I will have more interviews to go. These places all need me. I am using this to my advantage. If they need me I can ask for things. Like ending my day at 3.00 pm in order to pick up the girl at school.

I will still have to move my family. But where I am going to move will be SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE NASCAR BACKWOODS place we were going to move to. This time, moving will be easier. Again, I am not a speciality offered in my city.

Notice I didn't say not needed. But, health care is a business. Don't get me started.

I must say though, the interview was one of the best I have been on. I felt good, like I was being heard. I have been on interviews for registered nursing jobs many times. Because of the nursing shortage, you just need to be a warm body and they will hire you. They don't hear your skill or your passion.

But interviewing as a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner is a whole different ball game. I am not there because I am a warm body. I gots mad skills. I should, after all I have worked effing hard.

The interview went on for about two hours of us just talking. Finally, I had to cut it off. This place shares my passions. hmm ...

I would get an office. My own office where I could turn on the radio! And see people who were not court ordered. People who actually want my help. No more doing care while making sure roaches weren't climbing into my backpack. The clinic was so clean. Very weird.

It's sometimes really hard to think about my dreams coming true. This, just like the wee ones in my life, mean the world to me. And the weight of it is sometimes a little too much to take.

There is a certain responsibility to winning the lottery. I can't say I am not a little terrified. I am actually becoming a grown up. Or at least faking it really well.

Ok-off to collect myself, breath deep and drive the three hours back home.

What was the best or worst interview you went on?

:)

Mrs. Hall

Woodpeckers and Raising Arizona

First off-congratulations Mr. Geology Joe and Wife! Welcome to the bloggerhood little guy!

Our house has wood siding. We also have several trees in the back yard. One day, after we moved in, we heard tapping. It was distinctive, like mini machine gun fire. It was a rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap . . . pause. . . . tap-tap-tap. . .

The tapping wasn't at the window or the door. It was near the top of the walls in the living room. Turns out it was a woodpecker, drilling holes in the siding. Mr. Hall made quick work of this. It is an intermittent problem, easily dealt with. No biggie.

Yesterday, I was using my work laptop, at home. If I work from home I get to sit in my comfy chair and listen to the radio as I document my day. I don't get to listen to the radio at work because "it is too distracting" to my coworkers.

Anywho-I was typing away when I heard the tap-tap-tap and I bolted outside with a bath towel in my hand. I spotted the wood pecker and yelled.

GET THE OFF MY HOUSE DUMBASS PECKER!!!

With all sorts of vengeful energy, I began to swing wildly with my towel. Screaming and swinging. The woodpecker went to the nearest tree. Waiting and mocking me. I swung the towel at the trees, knocking crunchy leaves down. I grabbed tree limbs and shook them. At this point I was almost climbing the tree. All crazed monkey like.

And then I realized. Perhaps I was taking the whole 'job offer falling through' a little too easily. Perhaps I was not quite right about it after all.

So I took the rest of the day off. No more seeing patients, no more charting, no more nothing. The kids were at day care and school. I would have four hours all to myself. This, to a parent, is like winning the lottery.

I popped in a movie. Raising Arizona.

I snuggled on the couch with the cat. I started to feel relaxed for the first time in weeks. I was all sorts of chillax. Raising Arizona was raising my spirits. Good times.

Then, the phone rang. And it rang again and again. All of the sudden I have three job interviews for positions as a Psych-NP. They were all very nice calls. All reaffirming my passion for this line of work. And they all wanted to meet me right away.

And it gets better. I like all of these jobs they are wanting me for. They sound very exciting.

My first interview is today. Wish me luck.

Five for Friday

There are five songs that currently sum up my current status in life:

1. Wanna be a Rock Star by Nickelback. It is a song of longing for what is not coming to fruition. And while I don't neccessarily want to be a rock star, I want to be my dream job to meteralize. I would also like a "bathroom I can play baseball in." And I do have a certain envy for the Girls next door. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76i6aZgo2io

2. Sheep go to Heaven by Cake. It is a song about paying your dues. And it is wearing. But, my heaven job will come. Meanwhile, "As soon as your are born you start dying, so you might as well have a good time." is my favorite line. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0mx5ERj1eI

3. Old Man on the Back Porch by Presidents of the United States. To have fun Pancake, Mac-n-Cheese and Mr. Hall crank up the mirror ball and rock out to this diddy. And it is fabulous fun indeed. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3VTszNLwFd0


4. Father of Mine by Everclear. Sort of sad, but not directly applicable to my life. It helps me be so thankful for all that we (the Family Hall) have. 5. I lied, there is only four.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8uamNDLEA0

What songs explains your current situation?