Smart And...

I'm going to let all of my readers in on a little secret. Something about me you may not know. It's something you would never know from casual interaction with me.

I'm smart.

I'm also not sarcastic. Nope, not me. Neverrrrr.

Look, I know it sounds narcissistic to just say it outright like that, but it would be disingenuous to pretend that I don't know that by school standards, I am above average. It's a trait, it's like saying I have curly hair or enjoy the taste of coffee.

Growing up, I was always "The Smart One." If you were to ask anyone to describe Kim, they would say "smart" within the first five words. And there's nothing wrong with that. There's certainly nothing wrong with being smart, and nothing wrong with having that reputation. But something I learned in college that I want to share is a concept that I have dubbed "Smart And..."

I don't want this to sound like a big ad for Hillsdale, but if you make it in, it's pretty much assumed that you are smart. Everyone is at least fairly book smart, it's the baseline. This creates an environment where you can't lean on being smart to define yourself. That would be like leaning on breathing as your big selling point. Everyone does it, whoop-de-do, what else you got? So you're smart.....what else you got?

We're smart. I promise. We have the degrees and tear-stained study guides to prove it

Something that I appreciated about the friend group I ended up with was that suddenly I wasn't "The Smart One" anymore. I was able to really look at what else I could be. My "And.."

The people around me were able to recognize my "and" and point it out to me in ways that I didn't really think of at the time, but that helped shape my perception of myself in a good way. Their reactions to my sense of humor, fashion, and interests helped me realize that I didn't have to be The Smart One. I had never thought of myself as a fashionable person until people started pointing out that I did have a distinctive, interesting style, it's just not what you would see in a glamour magazine. I had quite honestly never thought of myself as particularly artistic (outside of performing arts) until my friends encouraged me to rediscover that I did really enjoy drawing and painting. They saw and valued things in me that I that never really considered as anything worth noting.

What I'm kind of getting at is that they didn't just settle for seeing the most obvious traits. They took an interest in me and wanted to know what lies past that first and even second impression. It really helped me to develop as a person and stop defining myself as the smart one. I'm still smart, but I'm also sharp-witted, lover of all things cartoon, queen of accessories, a good cook. And I am allowed to be all of those things at once. I don't have to have one shtick all the time, I don't have to be "The____ One" I can just be Kim, and that's something I value.

Not that I felt any particular pressure to fill my "The Smart One" role when I was younger, but there were times I felt like people just kind of saw that I was smart and never felt the need to look for more. And I never asked for more because I didn't really see myself as much more. I had my role; I didn't ask anything else of myself and no one asked anything more of me. Maybe that's something everyone goes through to some degree as they mature, but Hillsdale is the only place I have seen so many smart people who care so much about the "And..."

Obviously, no one has the energy to try and look deeper into every single person they interact with, but there really is value in going beyond the obvious for those you care about or wish to know better. And there is definitely value in looking into you own "And..." to maybe cultivate some of those less prominent characteristics that bring you or those around you some joy.

I don't know how much sense this makes to people who aren't me, but I really wanted to share the concept of the "And..." with my readers. I feel that it's something everyone should be aware of. No one trait should define a person's identity, it's like holding up the Parthenon with one pillar. If something happens to that pillar, the structure collapses. People should change over time, and every one of those changes shouldn't have to cause a full-blown identity crisis. Swapping from one stereotype to another is no way to live a life. Finding your "And..." is a big step along the way to an awareness of who you are as a person, good, bad, and ugly. No matter what your "And..." may be, embrace it and maybe along the way, you'll help someone else find theirs.

Medical Labs Exposed!

I know I've been posting a lot about my job, but I've had this idea in my head for a while and I want to get it out because it's kind of a cool thing. There are things that I learned working in the lab that everyone who works in the lab knows and just accepts as normal that are pretty surprising to those on the outside. These were things that I didn't expect when I first got into lab work, and I'm guessing I'm not the only one. I thought it might be fun to share a few of those things, so here we go:

1. If you remember learning any lab procedures in a science class, it's all done by machine. I remember learning about the history of medicine and learning about how samples were taken and stained and looked at under a microscope. I always pictured a bunch of doctors huddled over tables with timers getting every stain in order. Nope. It's actually more similar to an automatic car wash. Load the slides, tell the machine which protocol to do, and a prescribed amount of time later you have perfectly stained slides, all coverslipped and ready to be looked at. We all still need a basic understanding of how the stains work to be able to effectively operate and maintain the stainers, but we don't actually carry out the process.

2. Acronyms, acronyms everywhere. As you have probably guessed, we use medical jargon in the lab all the time. A lot of these words and phrases are really, really long. Ain't nobody got time to say "Hematoxylin and Eosin" a hundred times a shift. Thus we have a ton of acronyms that do sound kind of funny if you don't know what they're referring to. The fact that I understand the sentence "This DS case came from the PA this morning and needs to be given to IHC for an HP and then QC'ed, but after that the blocks can be BAP'ed." is kind of interesting to me. I guess every career has its lingo, but it can be kind of strange to hear it from the outside.

3. Every machine has a name. No, not just a brand name or a number, but an honest-to-goodness "people" name. We have multiple machines of the same model and we need to be able to differentiate them. They may move to different parts of the lab, so numbers don't make sense because they would need to stay in order and it would be confusing if we get rid of one. So we give them names so everyone knows which machine we're talking about. And at every lab I've seen, the machine names fall into several subtypes. Sports players, classic movie characters, and cartoon characters. And we refer to them by those names with a straight face every day. My personal favorites at my current job are the special stainers names after characters from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Loading slides onto Donatello then getting more bluing reagent for Splinter is something that happens regularly. So, when you get your results from a blood test or biopsy, know that your results may have come from a machine named Scarlett O'Hara or Daffy Duck.

4. Color is everywhere. At the lab where I work, I had to take a color blindness test when I was hired. It makes sense when you see how vital different colors are to my job. Different colored blocks and slides dictate the order in which we do things or which client they came from. The stains turn the tissue different colors to make it possible to differentiate atypical cells. Knowing what each color means is absolutely vital to what we do. Color makes it possible to tell at a distance what priority those slides are and whether they need to be put with this client or that one. It's like a traffic light. Simple, but very effective.

5. This is probably not a thing at smaller labs, but at a lab with a lot of machines, there is ALWAYS one making noise for attention from someone. A significant part of my job is attending to these various beeps and alarms like I'm running a very expensive day-care. I have literally heard these alarms in my dreams after a long day. You know how parents can hear their child's specific cry in a room of screaming babies? That's how lab aides are with the machines they are assigned to. We can hear a processor go off across the lab or ignore the coverslipper right next to us depending on whose responsibility it is.

6. The potential for things to get messed up is pretty insane, so everyone has to be very detail-oriented. I guess anyone would hope that handling diagnoses would be detailed, but the standard is essentially perfection. We want every patient to get an accurate answer in a timely manner. Part of the reason teach case goes through so many hands is because each one serves as a quality check to make sure it's being done correctly. One block lost can mean no result of it's not detected. If two slides are sent to different departments and not returned to each other, that delays results for no reason. Everyone in the lab has to communicate before small oversights become crises.

Part of why I like doing posts like this is because a lot of medicine is shrouded in this fog of confidentiality and jargon that many people distrust. It does feel impersonal to have a bit of your body sent away and just have results magically appear. So I want to shed a little bit of light on what goes on inside the secured buildings behind badge-locked doors. The people in the lab are human too, and someday they may need a result like the ones they process every day. I'm not saying that there aren't dishonest people and people who don't care, but it's important to remember that at the end of the day, people who work in labs do still care about patients, just in a different way. Trust me, I am not the person you want to squeeze your hand when you're getting a bone marrow biopsy, but when three processors are going off at once, that's when you want me. There is so much more to medicine that the average person just doesn't see, and I'm so happy that I have the privilege to work in this amazing field. Okay, enough sap. It's almost my birthday, I have a party to plan!

On Being a Princess

If you've seen my Facebook over the last few weeks, you may have noticed that my pictures have taken on a certain...royal quality. Okay, I've been plastering my Ariel cosplay over every possible social media platform because I love it. Anyone not in the know about the cosplay world might have a few questions about this costume and what it's like to wear it. In this post, I'm going to answer them because I want to inform people about my strange and wonderful hobby. And mostly, I want to gush about my love of cosplay and how I'm living out a childhood dream.

Did you make it?

Yes, yes I did. That pink and white silk monstrosity was naught but a pile of fabric last January. Disney princesses are a very popular choice for cosplayers, so it was easy to find another Ariel online who had posted recommendations for pattern and modifications. I did buy the lower sleeve bits. I was lucky enough to find them on Amazon in a fabric that stretches. I like being able to bend my arms, thank you very much. I also bought the hoop skirt because I do not have the patience to mess with that. The wig was actually pretty easy to style. Again, other cosplayers had tutorials and enough hairspray will fix anything. I am currently ignoring the fact that it got really tangled from being worn for two days and really needs to be washed and combed.

How long did it take?

Not as long s I thought. I thought it would be at least six months of work, turned out it only took about three. Now, that's on and off work. An hour here, and hour there, maybe an afternoon on weekends. The cutting of all of the fabric took about 5-6 hours, and I did have to make an emergency run to the store for more boning at one point, but it honestly came together fairly quickly. Pro tip: when doing a big project, start with the hardest piece. When I finished the bodice, with its lining and boning and zipper, the skirts were a snap.

How much did it cost?

*laughs, degenerates to tears*.....Actually not near as much as it could have. I found a resource for large swaths of fabric for super low prices. Fabric Wholesale Direct saved my life. I was looking at Joann's all over DFW and couldn't find a place that had enough fabric in the color I wanted at a price I could afford. I resorted to looking online and was not disappointed. The wig was obtained on a Valentine's day sale from Arda Wigs, so it was cheaper than it could have been. I just used a pair of shoes that I had, so that was no cost. Here's my cost breakdown:

Fabric: $45

Notions: $50 (estimate)

Wig: $40

Hoops: $16

Sleeves: $10

Total: $166 *cash register sound*

Isn't that hot?
Yes, but not as bad as you'd think. Those hoops allow for a lot of air circulation, so the only parts that really get heavy are the bodice and wig (you'd be amazed how much a thick wig smothers your neck and shoulders). I didn't really have a problem wearing it all day as long as I made sure to not stay in the sun very long.

How do you go to the bathroom?
*laughs bitterly* you don't. Okay, you wait as long as possible and then try to find a handicap stall. When your outfit is literally larger than a standard bathroom stall, options are limited. I try to find less busy bathrooms so that those who are actually disabled can use the big stalls, but I can only do so much.

Do you get stopped a lot for pictures?
EVERY TEN STEPS AND I LOVE EVERY SECOND OF IT. Seriously, a lot of people have this idea that they are bothering me when they ask for a picture, but unless I am actively doing something that is hard to interrupt (eating, talking on the phone, etc.), I LIVE for this. Please ask for a picture and let me pose, you don't have to awkwardly sneak a pic. If your kid wants a picture with the pretty princess, absolutely take one with me! Anyone who cosplays a Disney character knows that they are  going to get attention from kids, so we're generally not the type to be like "ugh, children, how gross." I adore seeing them light up and get excited at seeing their favorite characters come to life. I even let them hold the dinglehopper. My costume is made to be worn all day at con and is all washable, so even an errant hand print isn't really a problem My Ariel isn't the best cosplay out there, or even necessarily the best Ariel, but I'm really proud of it and i love sharing it.

Do you do parties or other events?
I'm not currently affiliated with any professional agencies, but if you have an event and would like a princess, feel free to shoot me a message. I made this costume, darn it, and I'll take any chance to wear it. I don't have any fancy training, but I'll read a story, take some pictures, be a bubbly happy princess for charity or a birthday or a church event.

I was definitely one of those girls who wanted to be a princess, and mostly for the poofy dresses and magic. It may not be as impressive as talking to animals or growing a tail, but bringing joy to those around me is its own kind of magic, and I can't wait to do it again and again.

Back to Life!

This blog has been silent for a couple of months, and there's a reason for that. That reason has been that I have had absolutely no energy to do anything not absolutely necessary for life.

Yes, me. Vibrant, energetic Kim has had no energy. She has sat in the dark and been sad. Allow me to explain.

Remember how in my last post I said that I was working overnight shifts? I was so optimistic that I would be able to adjust and be fine, at least temporarily. Nope. Did not happen. My body has declared that it does not like sleeping during the day. I learned a few things about myself, especially what happens when I'm pushed to my limits. Apparently, when I hit a certain level of exhaustion, I burst into tears for no reason. Not fun. If tears happen at exhaustion level 10, I was living day to day at a level 7-8.

Lack of sleep and constant stress does weird things to me. Most obviously, the corner of my mouth split and didn't heal for months. When my dentist noticed this at a regular cleaning, she said that this usually either a B vitamin deficiency or stress. I was pretty sure I knew which it was. Lipstick became a necessity to avoid looking like I have herpes or something.

Another effect of this long-term exhaustion on me is that I get really emotional and mean. Every thought is filtered through the lens of "Do I have the energy? Can I manage this? How long can I keep this up?"so even the smallest question makes me want to say "I DON'T KNOW, LEAVE ME ALONE." If I've come across as unkind to anyone, I am so sorry, being tired is no excuse. I've literally had to stop myself halfway through sentences because I realized I was being ugly. That's not the me God wants me to be, that's not the me I want to be, it needed to stop.

However, that has recently changed. Not without a lot of effort on my part, but I got it. Never let it be said that I am not persistent. It all started in June, when I e-mailed my supervisors to make sure they remembered that I wanted to move to another shift. All well and good. Then another lab aide quit, so I e-mailed the supervisor again asking if I could be considered for that shift. I found out that they were not replacing that shift, but there would be another shift opening up that I might be able to have. Excellent. The e-mail officially stating what shifts would be available went out the second week of July. I put my name in and waited. Waited one week. Waited two weeks. Waited three weeks.

Now, at this point I'm approaching a state of frantic exhaustion. Every day I check my e-mail, and every day I see nothing. I can't plan anything because I don't know when I'll be working. Have I been forgotten? So I did some strategic complaining. I complained about the radio silence to someone who works more closely with those making the decision. He gets the response of "I'll talk to her next week." This was at the end of July.

It was at that moment that I snapped. I had spent the last six weeks talking myself up for every shift saying "one more week, you'll know soon, it's almost over" and "powering through" and "sucking it up" and I was done. No. That is not acceptable. I need an answer. Management has had ample time to at least tell me when they will make a decision, and they have not told me anything. Are they getting my e-mails? I don't know, no one responds. I'm done being strung along while I waste day after day feeling like I'm carrying a backpack full of bricks and not being able to think straight. I relayed all of this to the person who got my response, all at a low volume and very articulate, but obviously very angry. He was shocked that I was ignored for so long and said he would get it sorted.

And you know what? I got my answer within a day. I don't like snapping like that, but I had tried being professional and no one acknowledged my existence. One of the supervisors was supposed to talk to me a while ago, and he never did. Which I would understand if I hadn't sent reminders that went unanswered. Even after getting my new shift, I never got an apology, never got an official confirmation of my new shift, never got a single word over e-mail or in person from this supervisor. Needless to say, he has managed to find his way onto my bad side. But I got my new shift and that's the important part! And I'm so grateful for the people who have been on my side and gone to management when they ignored me.

Within a week of switching to my new shift, I was waking up happy again. My split lip went away, I could concentrate again, and I could make it through a shift without having to grit my teeth to stay vertical. My life no longer revolves around work and I am able to work on side projects! This overnight shift thing has overall been a pretty negative experience, but that doesn't mean I can't draw some good from it.

One thing I've gained from this experience is gratitude. I am so grateful for the people who have accommodated my awful schedule when making plans. I'm also so very thankful for everyone who has put up with my foggy, emotional, kind of mean self and cut me a little extra patience. I don't deserve you amazing people. In my friend groups, I tend to be a person who organizes things and gets the wheels turning, but when I'm so tired I can't do that. I'm grateful for others who have taken that on, it really made me feel loved.

Another thing that I gained from being stuck on third shift that I would like to write about is a newfound sympathy for those with chronic fatigue, depression, and really any condition that sucks away energy and leaves you drained all the time. It really did make me feel like I wasn't myself, and it was frustrating to know that I was capable of so much more. It was like carrying a heavy weight on my body and brain every day that I had to work around. Obviously I can't totally know what it's like to feel that way and not be able to escape. I bounced back with just a shift change, but for many it's not that simple. I've only had a little taste of it, and that was enough. I'm going to strive to be a little kinder to those suffering with exhaustion, because it's harder than I would have guessed.

So, I'm no longer a bat. I have returned to the land of the living. I have a couple of posts knocking around in my brain that I'll hopefully be able to write soon. I actually have the energy to do that, and I'm not taking it for granted. Thanks for reading this far, and I hope to update again soon. Kim out.

The Mythical Land of the Lab

So, working at a medical laboratory, I see a lot of stuff to do that people generally don't think about. They know tissue goes there and that results come back, but not a whole lot else. So, I thought that it might be fun to do a full chronicle of the journey from hospital to result. There's a lot of steps that I'm guessing you never would have thought about. Maybe some of you will find it informative, maybe it'll be boring. Either way, I think it's pretty cool, so I'm going to write about it. Obviously, there is going to be a lot of variation from specimen to specimen, lab to lab, but here's what I have experienced.

1. The courier picks up a bunch of specimens and their paperwork from the hospital. Sometimes these are designed medical couriers, sometimes specimens are literally sent through FedEx. It depends on the specimen, what tests are ordered, and who ends up giving the final diagnosis.

2. When the specimen arrives at the lab, it is accessioned. This was what I did at my old job. Patient data is entered into the computer and verified to match the paperwork and it's given a case number.the case number follows everything associated with that patient's specimen through the lab. Tissue block are printed with the case number. These things are impossible to describe, so here's a picture:

3. The specimen is grossed. This means a Pathologist's Assistant (PA) cuts a bit of the tissue of interest whole describing the specimen into a recording that will later be transcribed and sent with the final report. The bit of tissue is placed into the blocks and loaded onto the processor.

4. The specimen is processed. Processing is basically cooking. In fact, early processing was done in a microwave. Not kidding. Processing removes the formalin and water while preserving the cell structure. Processing can take anywhere from a couple hours to half a day or more, depending on the tissue.

5. Once processing is complete, the blocks are given to an embedder, a person who arranges the tissue and embeds it in paraffin, like this:

The tissue is in that little button that sticks out. On the right is the mold they put it in the make them all uniform

5. Slides are printed for all of the stains that the tissue requires. All specimens that I see at Inform get Hematoxylin and Eosin (H&E) and some get special stains on top of that.

6. The tissue is given to a microtomist for cutting. Microtomy is the ultimate deli slicing. The tissue is cut to a width of 5 microns and laid on the slides, like this:

This part takes special training, obviously. I avoid walking past the microtomists because I walk fast and the gust of wind can mess them up. That is how sensitive these things are. Pity the microtomist with hay fever.

7. Slides are loaded onto various stainers depending on what stain is ordered. A stainer has a mechanical arm that moves the slides through a series of buckets of reagents and dyes. All of the stains are pre-programmed, so we just load them, start them, and wait. Some stains take only 45 minutes, some take 3 hours, it depends on which one. Slides are then given a coverslip to protect the tissue.

8. When the stains come off the stainer, they are then matched up in the computer by case number with their tissue locks to ensure that we have everything that was ordered and that it was done correctly. This is called Matchmaker at Inform, I don't know what other labs do.

9. Blocks are archived, put into storage on case the doctor asks for more slides, and the slides are imaged. Imaging is where the slides are looked at and any areas of interest are highlighted and put into a description that will also go on the final report.


10. Slides are given to distribution and sent to the appropriate pathologist with the report to be read and give a result. That result is sent to the doctor and the doctor gives it to the patient.


And all of this happens in less than two days. Labs generally run all hours of the day, and they are busy places. There are a lot of gaps of waiting for things to finish like the processing and staining, but there's always something going on. There are a lot of people who influence the result of every specimen, and we have to do it with a less than 1% error rate.

So yeah, that's the life of a skin biopsy, or a colon polyp, or whatever you get sent to the lab. I hope you found this interesting and informative. I like my job, so I enjoy talking about it like this. There, you can say you learned something today!

I'm a Bat

Okay, big fat life update because time to blog has not been a thing the past....couple of months. But with good reason!

Work: So I have a new job! I am working as a lab aide at Inform Diagnostics. It's not as gross as my previous job, but still a lot of fun. There's a lot more variation in my day-to-day tasks, and I feel like I'm learning a lot more about lab work in general.

I'm currently working overnight shifts. It's awful. Mad respect for anyone who can handle it. The problem for me is not staying awake at work, it's being able to get adequate sleep on weekends to be able to do social things. I'm exhausted all day and can't sleep at night. Nope. As soon as a day position opens up, I'm out. I have dubbed people who work graveyard shift "bats" and I have joined their ranks. I'm a bat.

What does a lab aide do? A little bit of everything. Print slides, load staining machines and stain the slides, maintain the machines, get cases together to be scanned into the computer before being read, anything else that needs doing. We're the worker bees that do all of the in-between of the big steps that happen between the tissue arriving at the lab and ending up on the pathologist's microscope. Maybe I'll do a blog post on the life of a sample, it's pretty interesting (at least to a nerd like me), and I feel like it's a good thing to be informed what's happening rather than the lab just being that mysterious place that gives results.

Living Situation: I LOVE MY NEW APARTMENT. So, my former roommate, Katherine, is getting married, and I wish her and her fiance all the best. However, that means I no longer have a roommate. If you've followed me for a while, you would know that my apartment has....displeased me in many ways. From the bugs to the lack of decent parking to the fact that I lost heat three times and air conditioning twice, I have HAD IT. So, because I can afford it now that I have a steady income, I looked for an apartment by myself. And boy, did I luck out on this one. I love the floor plan, it's within my budget, and the amenities are reasonable. I'm not near a busy street, so it's nice and quiet, and I'm on the ground floor, which I have never had before.

So, how does one girl with one small car get her stuff moved? She calls friends. I signed my lease on Wednesday, then unloaded my packed car into my new place. Repeat with another carload on Thursday, and another on Friday. Then came the big day.

Let me give you the numbers. Four wonderful friends showed up. We loaded three cars and two trucks to the gills. And we got it all. In. One. Trip. The moving of my stuff could not have gone better. I took everyone who showed up for gourmet pizza afterwards, as is correct. You guys deserve it and I'm so grateful to have people who are willing to help me. Seriously, you guys are great.

My cat, on the other hand, made some trouble. She was crying, so I let her explore a bit and went to go get her food/litter from the car. I came back and she was gone. I looked in every nook and cranny of tgAt small apartment, walked around the outside multiple times, and called for her. The problem with finding Puff is that there is nothing that will tempt her out aside from me. She has no interest in treats or toys, she just wants me. She will come for cuddles and nothing else.

We had looked behind the fridge. Several times. The fridge is black, and Puff is mostly black. We had looked right at her and not seen her! The little twerp nearly gave me a heart attack. But I have her, and she seems to be settling in quite nicely.

All of that stuff is why I haven't had the proper combination of time and energy to blog, but as I get settled, I should stabilize a bit more and be able to update again. Until then, here's pictures of my new place!

I was entirely too excited that my new apartment has a bar. It's small, but I love it

My living room. I haven't gotten a TV yet, and it needs some nice wall art. It's getting there

My glorious kitchen. I have it laid out to maximize the small space and be easily accessible to my short self.

Not the best shot of my bedroom, but that closet is amazing. It's huge, and it holds everything. Including my cosplay.

When I lost my job just a few months ago, I was straight up not having a good time, bit now it's looking up. I may be a bat for now, bout you know what? I'm a happy bat.

When God Closes a Door....

So, there is a reason I haven't posted in a while. My life has been turning up side down and not always in a good way. So, here's the story.

Two weeks ago, on Monday, I walked into work thinking it would just be another normal day. Alas no. This was to be my last time walking in to the job that I had enjoyed so much over the last couple of years. Unknown to me at the time, I had made a major mistake. I had left a specimen that needed to be refrigerated out at room temperature and the required test could not be done. That's not okay. It was an honest mistake, but a large one that can't happen in the medical field. I was fired for it. Talk about a punch to the gut. I turned in my badge, cleaned out my locker, and walked out of the labor the last time with my head high and mascara still intact. My boss was sad to see me go and encouraged me to use her as a reference for my next job. I really feel bad for her having to fire me, especially over a single incident when my record was quite good.

ImI not ashamedato say that I drove home and sat on my bedroom floor in the dark for a couple of hours. I had just lost a job that I loved, can you blame me? I hated myself for making that mistake, it was all my own stupid fault I was in this situation. Would anyone else even hire me after something like this? How long would it take to find a new job? Had I just blacklisted myself from medicine forever?

I called my mom, who assured me that I would find a new job and that any employer would be happy to have someone as good a worker as me. I dug myself out of my pit of shame and texted a few of my friends to tell them what happened. I went for the saddest walk of my llife. Slouching around the cul de sacs in black sweat pants, a black jacket, and sunglasses, I laugh now because I looked like I was probably up to something very illegal. As I walked, my shoulders slowly came back to straight, and my gaze shifted from my feet to in front of me, and I knew what I had to to.

I opened my laptop and updated my resume, then sent that resume to around ten offers from online job boards. I needed to feel like I had done something to move on from my mistake.

Over the next two days, I was not left alone for more than two hours. Remember how I said I texted a few friends? Well, once I explained what happened, they all started checking up on me. It was like an unintentional relay of support. People from different friend groups that had never met would check on me at different times as if they had made a schedule or something. My best friend's reaction was "Do you want me to come make you dinner tonight or tomorrow?" because she knew how not okay I was and that I would need to talk to her in person. I don't know what the heck I did to be surrounded by such amazing people. Seriously, you are all the best. That said, I didn't want to tell everyone because honestly, I needed time to come to terms with my mistake. I felt bad, okay, and I didn't wanna talk about it any more than I already had. So if I didn't tell you, please don't take offense. Trust me, it's not you, it's me.

I set up a few "rules" for myself to make sure that I didn't withdraw. I am a social person, so sitting in my apartment alone would wreck me fast. I made sure to leave lights on until I went to bed, which sounds strange but kept me from sitting in the dark. I kept my phone close and answered messages, connecting me with those wonderful, supportive friends. I took a walk every day. This not only served to get me out of the apartment, it helped me sleep. Not being able to sleep when you're already sad is the worst, so I actively avoided it. A few days after losing my job, my walk was interrupted by a phone call whilst out for a walk. It was one of the places I had applied to, asking me to come in for an interview. I was ecstatic, maybe this was the turning point. I had received a phone interview with another application and was waiting for a response from them. The next morning I was awoken by another phone call to set up yet another interview (Somehow I managed to wake up enough that they didn't seem to notice that I had been dead to the world five minutes ago). I wasn't a failure, I hadn't just ruined my career, I still had a chance!

So I went to my first interview. Now I know it may surprise you, considering my quiet, shy demeanor (If you didn't get the sarcasm, what are you even doing on my blog?), but I interview like a dream. Four years on the speech team were not wasted. I show up dressed to kill and with all of the right answers practiced and ready to go. I could sell ice to an Eskimo, or at least that's what I tell myself. I interviewed well, then waited for the decision. I was relaxing in my apartment several hours later THAT SAME DAY, and my phone rang. It was the lab I had interviewed at, asking if I had any more questions (I had a few ready to go, that's interview tricks 101) and saying that "an offer would likely be forthcoming. Excuse me, WHAT?! When I hung up the phone, I fell to my knees in thanks. From "You're fired" to "Here's our offer" was ten days. Less than two weeks to a new job. How often does that happen?

But I didn't accept the offer right away, I had another interview set up for the next day. I went to this interview much more relaxed than the first one. After all, even if I botched it I still had my other offer. This lab was very much the opposite of the first, being small and close-knit. There were definitely benefits to this kind of environment, but was it what I really wanted? I had a lot to consider.

Honestly, the consideration didn't take as long as I thought it might. I took the first offer. Hey, the bigger companies get big for a reason, they do have a lot to offer as far as career path is concerned. So, I will be starting as a Histology Lab Aide at Inform Diagnostics on April 8th!

The last few weeks of my life can be summarized like in one sentence. When God closes a door, sometimes He slams it on your finger, then He opens another one. I loved my job and I was really happy with it. But this new job is a great opportunity, and to be perfectly honest, is probably going to be better in the long run. It was just not how I would have chosen to come by such a job. The day I walked out of PBM for the last time was one of the worst days of my life. But it looks like there was somewhere else I was supposed to be. So, we'll see where this new job takes me.

And along with the new job, I'm trying a new format for blog posts. I'll still share recipes, but the main focus of the blog will shift to my stories and thought about life. So, I hope you all have a good day and if God has just slammed a door on your finger, I hope you find the one He opens.