worker bee, buzzing away!

As any one who has been within 5 feet of me (or, e-mail recepient or telephoe capable) lately can attest, I have been Freaking Out About The Job.

I could outline the Freaking Out About The Job thing, but, I hated when they made us do outlines in school. Does any one remember that crap? I do. Because, like I said I hated it.

I think I hated it because I never really needed to outline my crappy ideas--they just flowed organically, like so much crap.

In any case, it's kind of like a showdown: TICU vs. CVICU.

Oh, did I tell you? Another friggin' two job offers. One on Beloved Stepdown Floor, With The Cool Peeps, and another one at Happy Hospital's CVICU.

For the record, the job version of NBA playoff proportions reads: TICU vs CICU vs CVICU vs Stepdown.

(Continuing the lame sports metaphor, this job debate would make for some great WWF wrestling match ups, too.)

Any way.

One of the sub debates I'm having involves my own work ethic, which is really kind of crappy, from an attendance point-of-view.

I'm usually a very good worker, when I show up. It's just the showing up part I have trouble with. I think I'd be fired more often, if the nursing shortage wasn't so bad, and my work was remotely shoddy, or I quarreled with my colleagues frequently, or smelled badly.

My work ethic actually puzzles me somewhat, because I was very diligent about showing up for school (well, until certain parts of undergrad, and grad school). I'm sure I won lame Attendance Awards--which I'd like to show to my current employers, to show them I wasn't this loser-ish all of my life.

In my defense, the high stress and the physical bullwork of the job has me succumbing to various minor illness (and the evil tummy issues, which are Largely Mysterious, not to mention very painful). I don't like to go to work feeling sub par, because I'm always afraid I'm going to get a very heavy, taxing assignment, and screw something up, and kill someone accidentally. I'm less worried about the latter than I was two years ago as a new grad, obviously, but, I still worry about it.

Any way, this nattering on about work ethic all dovetails into my current "Which job should I take?" because I realize ICU is gonna be hard. I'm basically going to be a new grad all over again, and the patients are going to be, by definition, more unstable and a lot sicker, and I'm really going to need to be in top physical and mental form to do the job properly.

Only, I don't feel top form at all. I feel sort of soft-around-the-middle, like I've lost my edge. Maybe I freak out less because I know my job better, but then sometimes I worry I've become some lazy ass second rater.

I also don't feel physically up to it, on a lot of levels. The part of me that deeply wishes not only to avoid hard work, but also preserve my joints and ligaments for a slothful old age of bitching about my nursing home amenities, feels a bit worn out. That part of me wants to be Part Time Jamie, with the cushy eight hour shifts, on evenings, a schedule with which my body can actually cope semi-decently.

I don't really want to do twelve hour shifts (because oh! The PAIN! IT BURNS! I say). I've never been a twelve hour shift kind of girl. Because anything over eight hours in a work day = slave labor, in my book.

I don't really want to do nights either, because I don't remember much about my life on night shift last year, except that I was constantly sleep deprived and very, very very cranky. Plus, I was continually disoriented. It was a bleary, post-hangover way to live, without the fun of imbibing or indeed, ever being drunk in the first place.

Unfortunately, I seem to have about 36 years left until I can retire and collect my Fake Social Security. Thanks, Baby Boomers, for consigning me to a few more years of pointless, soul crushing employment!

Any way, my biggest fear (other than learning a brand new job, and staying awake at night--oh, excuse me, I mean, during the day, when I'm supposed to be sleeping--wondering if I accidentally killed someone, even someone on tons of life support) is failing at a) showing up to work at all and b) staying awake on night shift long enough to learn anything about not killing my patients.

There are many, many more tedious sub-debates about this whole Job Debacle, which I subject my loved ones to in a constant, monotonous litany ("What if it sucks?!" and "No, seriously, what if it really, really sucks?!" being the top two favorite variants of the same damn thing). Maybe I'll treat my erstwhile readers to a few of them, in good time.

However, I'm trying not to alienate everyone with my boring prattle, and considering the same people who read this blog also probably are getting fifty e-mails a day debating the de/merits of each and every single facet of my oh-so-fascinating dilemma, I think I'll stop, and spare everyone the grief of recounting it again, in IMAX like proportions.