The man on the radio.

My alarm clock went off at 5AM. I hit snooze knowing I had a mere 5 more minutes to rest before I had to crawl out of bed and go to a job I was less than thrilled about. Don't get me wrong, I've learned a lot as a patient sitter, but sitting in a chair for 12 hours straight is draining. torture even. 5 minutes felt like thirty seconds when my alarm went off again.

I laid there wondering why i subjected myself to 12 hour shifts of sitting in one spot, looking hopelessly out the window at the sunshine, almost forgetting what fresh air smelled like. then i remembered. to save money. for student loans. for my dream wedding. for a honeymoon. for life. ah, yes. i would forgo hitting the snooze button for a third time and roll out of bed all for the sake of the American dream. 

I walked out my front door at 5:45AM and was greeted by the moon. I got in my car and turned on the radio. I don't know what it is about the early mornings, but no one likes to play music on the radio. All anyone wants to do is talk. I flipped through the stations at least 5 times before settling on one.

News. "Late last night a man jumped off the South bridge of interstate 83 in Harrisburg". Depressing. I changed the station. "A man jumped off a bridge in Harrisburg into the Susquehanna river and survived". Again, really? I changed it again, aggravated. "A state trooper noticed a car pulled over on interstate 83 bridge and thought the vehicle was disabled. When he began to approach the vehicle the man got out of the drivers seat and flung himself over the bridge. He survived the 80 foot drop and is at Hershey Medical Center in stable condition".

Idiot, I thought. What an idiot. 

Did I really have to hear that story three times?, I thought annoyed. Wouldn't it be great if I had to sit with him all day! I chuckled to myself. There was no way. He would be in critical care and probably be so knocked out on pain medicine that no one had to worry about him lifting so much as a finger. After all, he jumped off a bridge. An 80 foot drop.

I went to the assignment sheet and wrote down the room number that was listed next to my name. JOHNSON 7AM-7PM, it said in large bold letters. I cringed. I headed to the elevator, hit my floor, and headed to my room. The lady who was coming off of night shift came out into the hallway to give me the low down on the patient i was to sit with for the next 12 hours. 

"he jumped off a bridge" she said.
"he what!?" i stuttered back. 

"He jumped...off a bridge" she repeated.

"he's the man on the radio" i said under my breath. 

she looked at me like i was crazy. i couldn't believe it.  

i have three things i wanted to get out of this post. 

the first: God is funny. He knew exactly what He was doing when i flipped through 5 different radio stations and all of them had that news story on. 

the second: the man on the radio isn't an idiot. he has a story. we all have a story. yours may not have ended up on the news, but you have one. and it's worth telling. don't ever be afraid to reach out and tell someone your story. life can be overwhelming, but you're not alone. call a friend. talk to a family member. pray with a pastor. 

the third:  God has a plan. for the man on the radio. for  you. for me. He's got a plan. this life on earth isn't the ending. it's only the beginning. on days you feel like this is it, like nothing else could go wrong, like life isn't worth living--remember, He has a plan. cling to it.

next time i turn on the radio i intend to listen a little closer.
turn down the tunes & turn up the news.
because somewhere out there there's a man on the radio who needs a thought, a moment, a prayer.

The girl with no name.

They all warned me about how fast it could happen. How in one moment just when you thought you were all caught up on drawing labs, flushing lines, taking temperatures, doing assessments and charting it all, that anything and anyone could come barging through the double doors and chaos could erupt.
trauma waits for no one. 

I don't remember the whirlwind of events that unfolded in those two hours that literally felt like a blink of an eye. All I know is one moment I was standing in the center of an empty hospital room preparing for the arrival of a patient and the next I was shoved into a corner and jammed between an IV pole and a med cart. I was trying to take it all in, while reminding myself to breathe as to not end up passed out on the floor.

They said it was a car accident. A bad one. So bad that others had been declared dead on the scene. There was blood. There was shouting. There was lots of movement. 20-some people rushed a stretcher into the room where I was standing. The girl lying on it couldn't have been any older than 12. Everything was being done to ensure her fate wasn't the same as the others.

IVs were started, meds were drawn, pupils were checked, total body assessments were done. I couldn't do much of anything. "What's her name?" I called out. No one heard me. "What's her name?" I said a little louder. I immediately regretted my decision as one of the doc's shot me a nasty look as if to say, "stupid extern". "We don't know her name", someone finally shouted out among the sea of attendings, residents, nurses, x-ray techs, and respiratory therapists that buzzed around the room.

The girl was clearly out of it, but moaned and moved slightly from side to side. I wanted to tell her it was going to be okay. I wanted to be the one voice among many that called out to her and gave her comfort. I wanted to call her by name. But I couldn't. Because no one knew who this girl was. And the only people who did, were no longer alive. 

It was a whirlwind. It was many things, but a whirlwind for sure. Raw, real, unpredictable, heart pumping-adrenaline-rushing, whirlwind trauma. It waits for no one. 

On my drive home I couldn't help but to think about the girl with no name. I can't imagine how scared she must have been. How lonely she must have felt. If I could have only held her hand and whispered in her ear, calling her by name, assuring her it would be okay.

"I call her by name" said the Lord. "I was there calling her by name" He assured me. "Not only do I know her name, but I know everything about her, for I created her. She is my daughter and I call her by name."

A wave of emotions swept over me. How easily I forget that there is One greater than I. One so great, He knows that which is unknown to us. One so great, He calls each and every one of us by name.

The girl with no name has a name. I don't know what it is, but I do know she is the Lords.
And He calls her His own.

"Never again will you be called 'The Forsaken City' or 'The Desolate Land.' Your new name will be 'The City of God's Delight' and 'The Bride of God,' for the LORD delights in you and will claim you as his bride."
Isaiah 62:4

God smiles when I dance in my underwear.

What moves you? 

What makes your heart skip a beat?

What makes your eyes swell with tears?

What makes you want to jump up and down like a little kid who has to pee really really bad? 

There are lots of things that move me. Babies. Sunsets. A quiet moment with the person I love. Witnessing someone go out of there way for another. Hearing unbelievable stories of survival, triumph, and victory when it shouldn't have been possible.

But there's one thing that moves me more than anything else in this world.

God. 

There are days I wake up, crawl out of bed in my underwear, and spontaneously want to worship God. So I set Pandora to my Kim Walker christian radio station and I dance. In my underwear. It's not the crazy fling-your-hair-air-guitar kind of dancing. It is not planned or particularly purposeful. It just, happens. I become moved. By the music, by the words, by the truth of God's faithfulness, love, mercy, and grace. 

I close my eyes and I go to another place. It's warm and quiet and beautiful and peaceful. I feel whole. I feel blessed. I am humbled and I am in awe. Sometimes I sing along, other times I simply smile, laugh, or cry. I can feel God smiling down at me. I think to myself, "what an amazing God I serve". it's not something you can entirely explain to someone who hasn't experienced the love of God. you just have to feel it, be moved by it. 

Majesty, Majesty, Your grace has found me just as I am,
empty handed but alive in Your hands. Majesty, Majesty,
forever I am [moved] by your love, in the presence of your Majesty.

God moves me, and I can't help but to respond. Whether that's dancing around in my underwear, following my calling to serve others by becoming a Nurse, calling up an old friend that's been on my mind, or reminding those I love of how much they mean to me, I am moved.

What moves you? Because whatever moves you, moves God. And when God sees you responding to something that moves you, He smiles. So be moved.

Go ahead, dance around in your underwear.
Make God smile. 

If you're going through hell, keep on going.

If you're anything like me, I'm sure you've heard the following a time or two:

It could always be worse.

You complain to a friend about relationship problems.  It doesn't matter how much you accomplish in a day, the to-do list just seems to keep growing.  Just as spring has finally begun to sprung you realize after a long winter (that simultaneous caused you to pack on a few extra pounds) that you can no longer fit into your favorite pair of shorts. the old clunker car you've poured way too much money into fixing finally breaks down beyond repair. you go to the dentist and find out you have two cavities that need filled, and you don't have health insurance.

but, it could be worse--right? 

I'm not saying problems are 'rankable'--although certainly crying over a stubbed toe seems incomparable to crying over the loss of a loved one. We all have our problems. Everyday we face what can seem like an insurmountable amount of crap that can push us closer and closer to the edge of wanting to just give up.

here's a true statement: i have never been so close to jumping off the edge than i have this semester. i could go into details, but i'll refrain because the truth is i'm not looking for pity or sympathy or anything of the sorts. bottom line is, the problems i thought were so big and important and worth complaining about, weren't. and every time i led myself to believe they were, God brought me to my knees and humbly showed me, it really could be worse. here's how...

--*David is a strong young man that I met through a friend. His mom has cancer and is starting radiation therapy. He works part time, goes to school full time, and he has become the man of the house. He comes from a broken home, and a past rooted in drugs and depression. He is doing the best he can to support his family but life has never seemed to let up on him, and every day obligations are taking their toll. He isn't used to feeling so defeated. He wants to give up, but knows giving up is not an option. 

--*Alyssa is a brilliant and beautiful girl (and dear friend) who is working on finishing her degree in the healthcare field. She has suffered multiple health problems, (including an infection in her heart), which has caused a great deal of stress in her already stressful life. Finally returned to a good state of health, and entering into her last college class, her husband lost his job. 

--*Emily is a quiet, but sweet individual, who I've gone to school with for awhile but haven't gotten to know very well. After complaining to her about a horrible test grade, with tear-filled eyes she told me her white blood counts have been low for the past three weeks and she's afraid she might have cancer. 

(*for confidentiality purposes all names have been changed) 

I kid you not--every single time I have begun to feel like giving up on Nursing and college and maintaining relationships and being torn with who to give my time to and just feeling down right defeated, God has used people like the few I've mentioned above to remind me how truly BLESSED I am to live the life I do. 

I don't have all the answers for why things happen the way they do. But what I do know is that we have a God who loves us to the moon and back (and then some). Our God is good. Our God is just. Our God is love. He loves us so much and He cares deeply about the troubles that we go through. We don't have to go it alone. So friends, I urge you-- 

"stick with what you've begun--believe, and don't quit, it won't be easy. Anyone signing up for the kingdom of God has to go through plenty of hard times"  (Acts 14:22) 

BUT, remember this...

"The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us"

(Romans 8:18) 

so if you're going through hell--keep on going.

and know, you are never alone.

It happens.

I thought I'd make an effort to post one more blog before my life offically ends tomorrow.

Spring break went too fast. Scratch that. Let's just call it time-to-catch-up-on-other-nursing-work-you've-been-putting-off-to-study-for-a-nursing-final-and-patho-midterm-and-research-project-and-a-lot-of-other-stuff "break". i spent the first night of "break" doing 9 hours of clinical paperwork. i spent the other 5 days of "break" writing a 10 page research paper. OH and THENNNN i got sick. with acute bronchitis and an upper resp. infection, which i am currently still battling. WOOOO!

[you won't see THAT kind of spring break on MTV. who needs boobs & beer with reality like that? shit's real!]

i did have some fun. with a certain someone.

butttttt reality will set back in as I start off the week with 13 hours of class. Oh yes, you heard me right. THIRTEEN HOURS. i wish i could give myself some sort of pep-talk--it might go like this: "self, just think of it this way. first class coming off of spring break is thirteen hours long, it can only get better from here, right!?" WRONGGGG. it'll get worse. much worse. if you think sitting in 13 hours of class is miserable, just think of all the material they teach you and expect you to REMEMBER! sitting there doesn't seem so bad after all.

on the bright side, in 6 more weeks i will be a senior. faoiejfa;ojefa;oivjawoenvaowiref!!!!!!!!!!!!!! a senior. in college. holy crap. i have no idea where the past 3 and a half years of my life went. don't even get me started. i will reminice when the time comes. but not now.

so that's it. just 6 more weeks. of unbareably long classes. lectures that never seem to end. pages of powerpoints. marginal notes out the wazoo. highlighting in all colors of the rainbow. days and nights of studying. quizzes. tests. loopiness. dance party study breaks to "shots". lots of coffee. and redbull. even more laughter. and possibly, some tears. but in 6 weeks, i'll have made it. it's all down hill from here.

a lot has happened in the last 3 and a half years.
life has been crazy. crazy good, and crazy bad.

but,
shit happens.
heartache happens.
failure happens.
laughter happens.
success happens.
joy happens.


and then when you least expect it, love happens.

yes, i have made it. i have come full circle, and it feels so good.

Being you matters.

"You may be the only Bible someone ever reads" the speaker said as I sat among hundreds of other Messiah College students in chapel one Tuesday morning.

It was my freshman year of college and I remember loathing chapel. Don't get me wrong, I was all about having Jesus time. I just wanted to do it on my own terms. The thought of someone forcing me to attend a certain amount of chapels for chapel credit angered me to no end. I usually sat in chapel, like so many others, doing homework, texting my friends from across the room, and trying not to fall asleep. But for some reason, this morning, I decided to listen.

I remember thinking to myself, "Wow, how sad, but true". Messiah College is a Christian college (if you couldn't already tell from the name). They preach community and love and other Christiany things. It didn't take long for me to become deaf to it all. It was monotonous, boring, and nothing I hadn't heard before (not to mention pretty hypocritical considering how un-Christian some 'Christian' people at Messiah acted). Regardless, the speaker caught my attention. I couldn't tell you in detail what he/she talked about, but I have always remembered the above quote, and probably will for the rest of my life.

People have tried to tell me how a Christian should act since I gave my life to Christ my junior year of high school. Rules, regulations, do's, don'ts, should, shouldn'ts. It's hard when you're a baby Christian to decipher what is truth, and what is tradition. Some people believe in some things so strongly simply because that's what their parents believe, or what the members of their congregation believe, or what their pastor believes. My faith has been challenged, ridiculed, stretched, and strenghtened in ways I never thought possible the past few years.

What I have learned more than anything about being a 'Christian' has less to do with rules and do's/don'ts, and more to do with simply being true to myself. God made me. He made me the exact way He wanted to. I'm not perfect, but God thoughtfully and carefully assembled me. My every thought. My every emotion. My every curve. My stubborness. My compassion. My determination. My (sometimes inappropriate) humor. EVERYTHING. I am whole and complete and perfect in His eyes. I don't have to DO or BE anything for Him. I am me, and for Him, that's already enough.

A dear friend of mine recently told me how by just being me, I encouraged him to change. (I know, I don't quite comprehend it either!) But seriously, I was brought to tears. Again, I am not perfect. I do not always make the right decisions or say the right things or do what I should. But God is in my heart. God HAS my heart. He's got plans bigger than I can comprehend. He has a purpose for EVERYTHING. Every friendship. Every mistake. Every success.

I knew this friend was put in my life for a reason but I didn't know why. At first I tried really hard to figure it out. I tried to poke and pry my way into his life (bless his little soul). But then, I let go. "Okay God, you've got this" I said. And then I just went on with my life. And that's when God really began to use me, unsuspectingly He used everyday me to help someone else. I am no one. But God made me someone.

There's so much more I could say, but I won't. I will simply remind you to be you. Never underestimate the power you have to effect another human being. To change someone. To love someone. To make a lasting impact.

So go on. Change the world. Be you.

When life gives you lemons...

...make lemonade.

...ask for salt and tequila.

...keep them because hey: free lemons!

...find the kid with the papercut.

...blame Adam and Eve for eating all the good fruit.

...duck.

you've heard it all, right? so why when something so unexpected happens in our lives does it come as such a surprise? the only sure thing in life IS change. we all know this. we've all experienced it. not only that, but we've all survived it. sure, it might have been a painful process, but you're still here right?

it would sound cliche of me to say, be thankful. because the truth is, it could be worse. it could always be worse. no one wants to hear it, let alone admit it, but that doesn't mean it isn't true.

bad things happen to good people. friends will disappoint us. those we love will let us down. people lie. cheat. steal. manipulate. life is unfair sometimes. it's complicated. it often times doesn't make sense. so when life gives us lemons (because it WILL at some point in time throw them your way), what do we do?

cliche as it is, lemonade won't solve world hunger. or a broken heart. or an illness.

i don't have an answer.

i'm sure i could come up with some genious explination or funny catch phrase if i tried hard enough, but after the kind of weekend i had, i got nothin'. except this...

i was at the gym saturday doing squats next to an older gentleman. he looked like he was in his 70s and had a nice tan glow to him. he kind of reminded me of a younger (and less creepy) Hugh Hefner. our eyes met and we exchanged smiles. i decided to walk over to him.

"what's your secret?" I asked.
he stared at me blankly. i wasn't sure if it was because of the horrible aroma i was exuding, or if he genuinely wasn't sure where i was going with it.

"what's your secret to being so fit?" I asked in more detail.

i had hoped he understood what i meant without adding "at your age" to the end of my question.

"just keep going" he said smiling at me.

i stood there thinking about what he had said. it probably didn't mean that much to him, but it did to me. i smiled to myself and thought, "now isn't that the secret of life".

i don't have all the answers. all i know is when my friends hurt, i hurt. sometimes i make stupid decisions, and the consequences aren't always fun. learning the hard way really is hard. but life happens. lemons happen.

what you do with them, well that's up to you. we all find ways to cope. the important thing is that we keep going.

I'm coming home.

By no means do I claim to be a P-Diddy fan or follower, but his song "Coming Home" came on the radio this morning on my way to church (which I haven't attended in months, by the way) and it struck something deep within me. The chorus goes as such:

I’m coming home
I’m coming home
Tell the World I’m coming home
Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday
I know my kingdom awaits and they’ve forgiven my mistakes
I’m coming home, I’m coming home
Tell the World that I’m coming

Home is such a complex concept. I mean, really, what--or where--is home? If you asked someone to describe what they would define as being home, it certainly wouldn't be the same as the next person. It's different to everyone. Some people call home the place they were born and raised. For others, who may have been subjected to moving every couple of years growing up for a parents job might call home their favorite place they lived. For others still, home is simply where they are surrounded by friends and family, regardless of location. Regardless of what, or where, home is, when we tell someone we're going home there is an unspoken understanding that it is a place of peace, joy, and comfort.

There's a story about going home in the Bible. It's the story of the prodigal son. I'll give you a quick summary, in case you've never heard of it. A father has two sons--the younger of the two asks his father for his inheritance, so the father gives it to him. The son then proceeds to pack up all of his things and leave his home with his new found inheritance, and spends all the money his father had given him in a foreign and distant land. He ends up so broke that he takes a job tending to fields and cleaning up after pigs, becoming so hungry he is willing to eat the pigs food (and i'm not talking about bacon). He decides he has had enough of living this way and rather be a slave to his own father, therefore he heads home. The scripture reads,

"When he was still a long way off, his father saw him. His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him. The son began to say, 'Father, I've sinned against God, I've sinned against you, and I don't deserve to be called your son ever again'. But the father wasn't listening. He was calling to the servants, 'Quick, bring a clean set of clothes and dress him...get the finest pig we have to roast him...we're going to have a feast! My son is here--given up for dead and now alive! Given up for lost and now found!"
--Luke 15:20-24

This story has a much deeper and personal meaning to me than a lot of people. In many ways, it is MY story.  "When he was still a long way off, his father SAW him", as if he were deliberately standing on the front porch pacing back and forth wondering when his son might return home. "His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him", can you imagine a better 'welcome home' than that? And as the son stood there being welcomed back to a place he just up and left without regard to the friends or family he left behind, he begins apologizing. "BUT THE FATHER WASN'T LISTENING", wait, what? Did you catch that? His dad couldn't have cared less about what he did or didn't have to say. His son was home. His pride and joy, his world, his baby boy, had finally returned home--NOTHING ELSE MATTERED.

I haven't been paying much attention to God the last few months. Not like I should be. I walked into church this morning not knowing what to expect. Would I feel guilty? Would God begin telling me off? Would people know I hadn't been to church in months and wonder why all of a sudden I decided to go? Would they know I didn't really belong? Who was I, an outsider, to try and pretend to be one of them? A sinner among saints. A crimson stain among the snow.

And then came a still soft voice.

"Welcome home".

And like the prodigal son I thought, but I'm so unworthy. I am SO unworthy to be called your daughter. But He didn't listen. "I've missed you, and I've never stopped loving you. I KNEW you'd come home"

Home can mean a lot of things. It can be a place, people, or memories, and it's different for everyone. But there is one Home we all have in common. One Home where we will always be welcome. No matter how long it's been, or how far we've strayed, our Dad waits for us to come Home.

It's time for some changes. It's time for letting go. It's time for me to go home.

Life calls.

It's been awhile. The to-do lists finally caught up with me, (more like chased me down and roughed me up a little bit). My Spring semester of my junior year has offically begun. Nursing has once again, consumed my life. It's only day 4. Dear Lord Baby Jesus, help me.

I'm sure there will be many times I will kick and fuss and wine and complain about how much work I have and how much I wish I had a break throughout the semester, but the truth of it is, I love Nursing. I cannot imagine myself doing absolutely anything else in the entire world. And THAT keeps me going. For whatever CRAZY reason, God has put a passion for working with people in my heart, and there's not much I can do about it. Other than to relentlessly keep pushing forward despite the fact that at times everything in me wants to simply give up. But I can't, because something deeper within drives me. Sometimes crazy.

I have continued to be blessed in many ways. I've had some pretty special people come into my life. Some friends, and some more than friends. We'll leave it at that, simply because I like to keep parts of my life a secret. Bottom line is this--these people, they make me happy. Really happy. They encourage me, uplift me, challenge me, and they've changed me. You know who you are. You're loved. A lot.

I've also had some pretty amazing oppertunities thrown my way. A few weeks ago I found out I was accepted for an externship at Hershey Medical Center in the PICU/PIMU (pediatric intensive care unit/medical unit for you non-medical people). There were over 800 some applicants hospital-wide, and I competed against 15 other students in my unit for one of four spots. Monday of this week, I found out that I was accepted for an externship at Mayo Clinic in MN in the pediatric oncology unit. They recieved over 1,100 applicants, and I was one of 110 that got picked. aoifeja;oeijfaweioj! Needless to say, it was EXTREMELY overwhelming. Never in my WILDEST dreams did I imagine getting the oppertunity to study at such a prestegious medical facility. I was also offered an interview for an externship at UPMC in Pittsburgh, but polietly declined considering I had already been offered two wonderful oppertunities.

I have a lot to think about and I am diligently praying as to which oppertunity I'd like to take advantage of. Both are equally wonderful, and I'm honored to have been given a chance at either one. I will keep you posted on my decision.

More blessings...one of my best college friends is getting pregnanter by the day. I know that's not a word, but it's true. She is absolutely beautiful and I cannot wait to meet her little girl. I call her Adilyn Grace, but a name has yet to be decided. Not only is she expecting a baby girl, but she's getting married at the beginning of August and has asked me to be a bridesmaid. I am beyond thrilled. This girl means the world to me, and I know she's going to make the most wonderful wife and mother.

Right now I have the flu. I can't say it's much of a blessing, but it's been a good reminder that my body needs rest. I've been training just about every day for the last couple of months for an event I'm doing in April. I put a lot of stress on myself to perform well and get frusterated when the numbers on the scale don't show improvement. I've been told by many, who care deeply about me, that I need to rest, but I'm stubborn and don't listen very well. I think having the flu is God's way of saying--chill out. So, I am.

I will spend tonight the same way I have spent the past few Thursday nights. Cuddled up beside a dear friend watching the Jersey Shore. It doesn't get much better than this. (Except maybe if snooks were here).

happy holidays.

So if you're like me, most of you are back at work or school.  I hope your holiday's were as wonderful and relaxing as mine. Here's a few things that happened over my holiday...

--My family volunteered on Christmas day downtown Harrisburg at a soup kitchen. When I asked the men & women who came through the line how they were doing many responded by saying, "I'm blessed". It blew my mind and touched my heart.

--I got to spend lots of time with my better half. ice skating. talking. shopping. and mostly, laughing. Tine, I am reminded how lucky I am God has given me a second chance. I cannot imagine my life without you. Your presense alone brings me joy. I'm so proud of the woman you've become and continue to grow into being. Love you.

--said goodbye to a friend. for good. you'll forever be a part of me.

i cannot wait to love like that again someday.

--I was reunited with a dear friend who returned home from having served in Afghanistan. As I listened to him tell stories of fallen comrades, tears rolled down his cheeks and my heart was full of gratitude.

To those who have served and are currently serving in the U.S military and to the friends and family members who have ever had to spend a Christmas alone because your loved one was protecting our freedom, I sincerely thank you. You are all heros.

--i turned 21. 'nuff said.

--i went to the dentist, doctors & gman.

got a cavity filled, blood drawn, and found out i can have babies. woo!

--ate cookies, drank some vino, and laughed. a lot.

--worked out almost every day. sometimes twice a day.

--worked hard. partied harder. now i have the flu.

i've spent the last three days with a fever in the 100's, a runny nose, and a horrible cough. i guess that's what i get for refusing to get the flu shot. but, there is no time to waste. there are things to be done, people to see, standard deviations to be calculated. (i'm taking a statistic's course for the month of january).

thankful for a wonderful break. and possibly the best break ever.

for now.