Into Marvelous Light

Mostly my nurses. But also all nurses. Because they all have a hard job. I can't even count the number of nurses I know. Seriously. This career is wildly high in demand. Which is probably why it's important to just take a minute - or a week. Nurses are important. They hold a very special place in my heart (which is a notable thing because honestly I really struggle with making room in my heart for people). Four of my very best friends are nurses. I've watched them through classes, through NCLEX tests (don't ask me what that stands for), through careers. They are superwomen. I'm not kidding. Can I tell you some stories? This is Hailey. She's a labor and delivery nurse, and in July she's going to have her own little human to take care of. [[She's told me stories that make me think maybe I wont ever be having kids.]] I've listened to her talk about how she's going to manage being a mom and a nurse at the same time, and I'm not kidding

May is Clothes Month. I am wearing seven articles of clothing this month. As a college student, I am no stranger to postponing laundry. In fact, I'm actually a pro. If it doesn't smell and I don't actively remember spilling food on it or sweating in it, I consider it clean. Nine days into May, though, and it might be time to do laundry. Especially since I spilled ice cream on one of my shirts a couple days ago. (Typical me) My wardrobe this month: 3 nice-ish/not lazy shirts 1 t-shirt 1 pair of jeans 1 pair of jean shorts 1 dress Shoes: nude sandals and black sandals, interchanged based on the day's wardrobe **Disclaimers** 1) Because it is May, I assumed a jacket would not be necessary. Indiana laughed at me and brought about a lovely frost and a few 40-degree days. My jacket doesn't count as one of the Seven. It's not my fault Indiana is bipolar. The same goes for the close-toed shoes I've worn a couple times. I need to keep my digits; sand

I'm not even going to talk about how late this blog post is. Nope. We're just moving on. April was "Food Month" for Seven, which was ridiculously hard and consisted mostly of me complaining to my roommate before justifying a cheating episode. [[Okay, it wasn't that bad, but it was close.]] My roommate, Deborah, deserves an actual Nobel Prize for dealing with me and doing this crazy challenge with me. Only eating seven different foods meant we had to carefully plan our grocery list and pray for the best. It also meant that Deborah had to do a lot of cooking because (1) I couldn't eat freezer meals anymore and (2) I am irreparably hopeless in the kitchen. So. Bless her sweet soul. Here is a photo of us together on the last day of March, celebrating ice cream and sweets since we were about to give them up.  I love her Now, the moment of truth. Because of health things and nutrition concerns, Deborah and I made a few exceptions/allowances with S