Waiting around for an interview is becoming frustrating. My goal of leaving on an assignment before November is becoming fantasy and with winter quickly approaching, I have to address the fact that my car only has summer tires on it. A decent set of all seasons will set be back around $700, money that I don’t exactly have. The jobs that I’m looking at aren’t paying like I thought they would either. Add to the mess that the difficulty I’m having even getting an interview, and you have one anxious Murse.

 

But it’s always easier to give up and become complacent then it is to follow through and go for it. And going for it is what I intend on doing. I just have to make sure that I can make it work. I worry that I’m being too picky and that my recruiter is getting tired of me. I worry that my room mate is tired of me being around. I worry that I’m not going to be able to pay all of my bills. I worry that whatever assignment I end up on will be terrible. So many worries.

 

I’m compelled to go, though. There is something deep inside of me that keeps telling me to go forward. I like to think that I will travel until I find where it is that I should stop and settle in, but I also worry that I will never find that place, that I will feel compelled to keep moving and never feel satisfied anywhere. Perhaps the problem isn’t with the places that I’ve lived, perhaps the problem is with me.
Or is it a problem?

 

Two more nights of work until I have a few days off. I’ve been trying to pick up extra shifts, and it’s hard because I keep getting shifts at Mursette’s hospital. I know that it must be absolutely terrible for her to see me. I have some idea of what she must be going through. Some idea, although she has a tendency for the dramatic, so I’m sure that it’s much worse than I’d like to admit to myself.

 

I have so much to do in the next few weeks. I have to switch bills around, shop for insurance, and figure out what to do with my 403B. It would be nice to be able to retire someday, after all. I’m also planning my own birthday party this year as well. Planning might be a bit of an exaggeration, I’ve given my friends a time and a bar to meet me at. The rest will be winged. I think that this year my present to myself is a hotel room. It’s probably a waste of money, but I think not worrying about driving home will be a treat as will hung over room service. I’m waffling a bit right now though, as I’ve had offers to drive me home after drinking. I quite like the idea of a room to myself though… I think I’m going to go through with it.

 

So, what do the next few weeks hold? I have no idea. I know that I’m worried, but at least I have a good job right now, making the best money I’ve ever made in my life. I’m in a hurry to leave, but I don’t have to be if I don’t want to. I’m trying my best to think this thing through, without passion. To make the best decision I can taking into account the stark reality of my finances and the whisper inside that tells me to pick up and move on.

 

It will be interesting to see what happens.