To round out my semi-hiatus, I’m excited to welcome Liv Rancourt. Liv is a kick-ass woman who writes about kick-ass women in a paranormal and/or romance setting (and she also has a shiny new author website that you might want to go look at because it’s so pretty). She’s here to share how she turns a common complaint on its head…
Thanks, Siri, for the chance to share a post with your readers. I hope the move is going well!
I was leaving work one morning at the end of a twenty-four hour call shift. It’s not as bad as it sounds – in fact, I think it’s a great gig, but we’ll get more into that later. I work as a nurse practitioner at a major academic medical center that boasts a top-level pediatric residency program and arguably one of the best nursing schools in the country.
But then I do have a bias.
To get to my bus I have to cut through the school, and on this particular morning I was following a bunch of young nurses, shiny copper pennies with trim size-Small scrub pants and bouncing ponytails. They made me feel every one of my years. Down to the hour. In fact, it occurs to me that I might have started working in hospitals before some of these girls were born.
I wasn’t exactly eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help overhear the following conversation. One of the new nurses leaned over to another and asked about her schedule. The answer?
“Well, as long as I get Fridays and Saturdays off, it’ll be okay.”