When poopers lurk in the bathroom.

I was smack dab in the middle of 5 years of nonstop nursing school. Or rather 5 years of nonstop frantically-trying-not-to-drown-from-the-pressure-because-they’re-cramming-so-much-into-your-head-that-it-feels-like-you’re-drinking-from-a-firehose-that-never-turns-off. And it won’t stop until you pass your boards. That’s exactly the place where I was that day.

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On feeling what no one can see. Until someone does.

 

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My recliner view.

There it was again. That look. A person walking towards you innocently glances your way as they pass by. But then you see that very subtle little double-take, their eyes lingering on you just a bit too long to be natural. Or comfortable. Continue reading