Happy...Easter?

Happy Easter.

I'll tell you a little bit about my Easter celebration.

It started out in a hospital from 8am-8:30pm. I'm officially on the day shift. I see daylight. I sat outside and basked in the overcast sunlight. It was lovely and my patients were angels. Tomorrow I'll probably be preaching a different story.

The night ended with me wanting to treat myself with a nice Easter dinner...But then I realized that no places were open since it is Easter Sunday.

I cave and go to a deli, where I tell the man to surprise me. He gives me a tuna sandwich on a kaiser roll with roasted peppers (which actually complements tuna wonderfully). What a great surprise. Thanks, deli guy.

I then continue on my stroll home in the pouring rain with no umbrella, and decide I'm too hungry to wait and that I don't want to eat in my bed like I usually do. So I walk and eat my tuna fish sandwich. I thought about how very few people can say that they celebrated their Easter by walking in the pouring rain eating a deli sandwich by themselves. I laughed at myself.

Laughing is a good remedy to loneliness sometimes.

I know I talk about my Kindle like every blog post, but it's a good topic starter/something to find in common with people you feel awkward around. Who knew that my coworker was a closet-reader who read the same stuff I do? Love awkward moments waiting for the subway.

Do mice like chocolate? This is a question I've wanted to look up on Yahoo! Answers but have been too embarrassed to. Especially since my Easter basket is sitting in the living room.

I just took a shower...And didn't wash my hair. I still put it up in a towel, and just realized that that was not necessary at all.

These are random-isms of an extremely tired nurse.

exhausted amy-isms.

One more night shift to work until I become a human again.

One day in between to recover.

I will be in zombie mode on Sunday. That's Easter, by the way.

Yesterday, I was in Grand Central Station at Rite Aid. A homeless man on a motor scooter was cruising near the pharmacy, while I was impatiently waiting for my prescription to be ready. The motor scooter guy was singing and singing. Then I notice he starts pouring boxes and boxes of Tylenol PM and Advil PM into his coat and Duane Reade bags. A-What.....What would you do as a bystander? Well....I had no idea. And I was deliriously tired from working. I stood there, pretended I didn't see (felt so guilty for that), and looked for employees. Thankfully, another one saw. The cops were there in 0.3 seconds, and were rolling the Tylenol thief away. Is there an underground Tylenol PM drug ring that I don't know about? Anyway...That was an awkward New York moment. Let's be honest...Only in New York.

After the Shins started playing on my iPod this morning, I realized that I really want to watch the movie Garden State again. That's one of my favorite movies. I love Natalie Portman and Zach Braff. It's such a beautiful movie.

I'm becoming immune to caffeine. This is a problem. I am also becoming addicted. I need it. Dr. Pepper, Starbucks (too expensive), Dunkin' Donuts, Snapple. Give it all to me.

I miss this one guy. I'm pretty dang happy with him. Love can be really lovely sometimes....It's been 9 months. Whoa. :)

A photo of a photo of a photo...Someday I will upload the original (when I get a new computer)...But. This is it. Take it or leave it.

Daughters.

Sometimes, I cry. I can't tell you how many times I've heard "Don't cry, Amy" when I've been working from my coworkers. How embarrassing. Does anyone else have this problem? Doubt it.

Sometimes I care too much. And maybe that's why I have a tendency to tear up a lot. I can't go into details but...Sometimes I look at these people, think "hey that could be my family member....". Instantly I love them. If anyone treats them in a way that isn't less than exceptional care, I get really upset. Anger = emotion. Emotion = tears.

So....It's 9am on a Saturday. No one is awake. I'm walking home from the subway, on the verge of tears every step I take. I can't think of anyone else to call, so I call my dad and instantly, the tears are coming...Again. I'm sobbing on the corner of 38th and 3rd, complaining about the entire night (I didn't even make it to my apartment, a half of a block away, hate my life). I know it must have been a weird conversation for him to wake up to...But I just needed someone to listen.

He was there. Here I am, a grown up girl, needing a shoulder to cry on....I'm glad it was my Dad's.

I'm crying again as I write this....

I am now 23 years old. I still can't believe that sometimes. It's hard to believe I have a full time job....And that I live on my own. I knew it would happen someday, but not this fast. Sometimes it's really hard not to be able to see my family whenever I want. I hate distance. Sometimes I hate being an adult.

Maybe this whole blog entry is childish...But I had to.

I think I'll always be a daddy's girl.

So Dad, I know that I'm a grown up now, but I will always be your little girl. I'm glad I still have you to talk to when I'm miles and miles away when no one is there (or awake yet, ha). You're a really good listener. P.S. I'm glad I look just like you.

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On a related note (kind of), I watched a 10 minute clip about a teenaged girl with autism who found her voice through typing on a computer. Much to the surprise of her family, she was a gifted individual with a talent for writing. She could express her feelings in a way that she never could before. Her parents finally saw how grateful she was for their help. I cried like a little girl when she typed this on her computer during her documentary. It didn't help that I had just gotten off the phone with my dad.

These were her words, not mine...But I had to share.

"Dear Dad,

I love when you read to me. And I love that you believe in me. I know I am not the easiest kid in the world. However you are always there for me, holding my hand and picking me up. I love you."

It's that time for another John Mayer reference.

home/artichokes

I love my family.

I loved everything about this weekend-- Especially waking up to beautiful weather and the birds chirping. It beats the heck out of honking and the loud music of cars waiting at the red light outside of my bedroom window.

I loved waking up to a cat purring in my ear.

I loved eating Sunday morning breakfast bagels outside on the patio, just talking with my dad and sister while Taz ran around the backyard.

Oh how I long for a green backyard with lots of trees and space to run and play.

Love, love, love.

If you ever want to win me over, buy me an Amazon Gift Card. I think that was my favorite birthday gift...Besides the 10th row center tickets to see Wicked. That was a pretty sweet gift too.

By the way....Indefinitely turned into 2 weeks...But I guess it's okay. Rolling with the punches.

I love Artichoke Pizza. "The" Artichoke Pizza...As in the pizza shop on East 14th Street. You haven't lived until you've clogged your arteries with their gigantic, cream saucy slice of artichoke pizza. If you need the details...You know where to find me.

Here's to.

Here's to me turning 23 in two days....

But wishing I were still this little girl instead.

If you must know, I'm hugging that same teddy bear right now.