I went through my cubicle yesterday and realized there's a whole lotta crap saved that I don't need. Everything from joke clippings to reminders of appointments... from 2001. I've started clearing out all the extra things that I haven't used in forever. Every once in a while I'll come across something I just can't part with... like my letter giving notice to my last position.

Working in the Operating Room was a blast. The hours sucked balls. I worked almost every weekend (13 days in a row then one day off... then six days in a row) and holidays. I worked 8 hours on the weekday, and 12 on the weekends/holidays. Seniority meant dick in that area. Then there was my boss. I trained her for the position and when she felt she knew enough (which she didn't) she started raining hell on all those who weren't on her good side. Eventually that included me. At my 10 year mark at UCLA I decided I needed a change. I wanted Monday through Friday hours. My dating was erratic and it was time to find someone special. It took me two years to find something I liked... and that was only with a friend suggesting it. By then I went from the OR's golden girl to a fuck up (in my boss's eyes). She wrote a less than stellar evaluation and I thought I was fucked. Luckily my current boss saw through the personal issue and gave me a chance. For that I will be forever grateful. When I told the higher up, a doctor who knew of all the crap and supported me privately (which didn't do shit when it came down to it) he said, "You know the OR will fall to it's knees, don't you?" I told him, "Yes, but maybe that's just what it needs". With that I wrote out my two week notice. A simple "My last day in this department will be" kinda thing. Nothing pleasant. No thank yous. More of a "fuck you" than anything. My new boss called and said "You're hired, but I need to talk to your current boss." No problem. I put her on hold and turned to the bitch and simply handed her the note, saying "My last day will be in two weeks. My new boss wants to speak with you. She's on line two." It was a burn that I felt good about. Regardless of how she treated me for the next two weeks... that day was awesome. I was given a goodbye cake that showed up on my desk and sat there... because hardly anyone knew. I left in tears... because I really did love my job. Two weeks after that my old boss was given two choices: Be demoted or fired. It took four people to do my job. Something I'm really proud of. I think I'll keep this letter... just because. *smiles*

Lately I've been remembering random moments in my life. A date with a guy where I learned he kept condoms in the steering wheel center and decided to prank him and open it. My dad dumping water and ice over the shower top when I didn't lock the door. Walking in the mountains with some friends and taking my top off (it was hot) and another friend happily following suit. Riding to Big Bear with an old boyfriend and meeting up with some of his friends. A friend riding through my pink bicycle when I was a child and it literally snapping in half. It had a sparkly banana seat and pink ribbons sticking out of the handles. Girly in every way.

All these memories... and yet I forget something Jake told me a week a go. Or my boss sent me a month ago. I don't know if it's because of the medication I'm on, the vitamins I'm not getting or me being lazy. Whatever it is... I hope it's a passing phase. Still... I am enjoying the memories. :)

Living in California has made me quite the woose. Last night I was sleeping when I heard some loud banging noises. My first thought was that someone was messing with the garbage cans. The room lit up and another loud boom hit. Thunder storm. No rain, just thunder and lightning. I went to the living room to check on the kittens. First storm for them. Then a really loud one hit. I said, "Fuck this shit" and jumped right back into bed. Jake had woken up to that one. We just listed to the storm for a bit, then drifted back to sleep. How odd that a grown person is transformed to a six year old when a little weather happens. Suddenly I was back in my old bedroom, with covers up to my ears just waiting for it to pass. When I'm up thunderstorms don't bother me as much. It's something about being in bed when it's happening that creeps me out.

I remember having a big window as a child. It was the normal window with a triangle of glass above it. We had these tall trees out front that swayed in the winds and made ghoulish shadows with it's branches. One time the Santa Ana winds were really bad and the 'monsters' looked as if they were coming to get me. I Laid in my pink canape bed, covers up to my ears and watched every sway. Suddenly there was a loud *snap* and the monster flew across the room. This sent me into a fit of screams that sent my dad dashing into the room buck naked. I slept in their bed for a week after that. Even seeing the tree laying across the driveway wasn't any consolation. There were two more ghouls out there and I wasn't about to be eaten by them. You'd never think I'd grow up to love horror films like I do.

I hate when relationships end. Friends or more, it's so draining. The acceptance of it is by far the worst. Just when you thought you had come to terms with it the reality hits you. You will never talk to that person again. They're gone. It's like a death. Things that seemed so funny now are just reminders of an inside joke that no one else gets. You look around and the room, or computer, takes on a whole new somberness. An object turns into something from 'them'. Things that you were saving to give to them now become this deep emotional burden. What the hell am I going to do with these!?!?!?!??! Send it to them? No, that would open lines of communication that you closed. Save them? But it will never be mine, I got it for them. Throw it away? Probably. And the time that you spent getting them goes with it. Put it in an unmarked box? So much energy over little things. No wonder people sleep all the time when they're sad. Too much energy is put into such minor things. But it keeps you from focusing on the end result. Or does it? Life is so harsh. People talk about the harshest conditions to live in, and weather comes to mind. Not me. The harshest condition is just living. Fighting every day to exist. Hoping that something will matter. Realizing that in the end it does not. Would you rather be a hero to a group of people... Or the one person who made a difference in someone's life?