Part II

It's easy to think of the many problems of my district. A co-worker and I were just discussing today the number of people we know who have screwed up in their jobs but remain employed. Exhibit A: a nurse, an RN, who gave a student the wrong amount of insulin (too much), realized her error, fed the student extra food, did not contact the parents, and then used white-out to edit her logs. I am pretty sure she shouldn't even have her nursing license anymore, but she held onto that, and returned to work after a 4 month paid administrative leave...And returned bragging about her "paid" vacation that she got while the rest of us filled in for her assignment.

But this job has not all been for naught. I received something in my inbox yesterday that assured me of this: "Dear Nurse (----------) its me (-----------) [Spitfire] I miss you so much I read your letter it made me cry ok gtg eat be safe talk to soon
P.s.I can't Waite for the 2nd Frozen lol 💋"

That simple note made every challenge (and there have been a lot) in this position worthwhile. 

There have been a lot of goodbyes in the last couple weeks for me, and while I will miss bits and pieces of this district, I'm looking forward to a fresh start somewhere else, new scenery on my commute, and new faces in my office. 

Now please excuse me while I treasure my time off with my baby-turning-toddler of a daughter. 


Part I

I'm working summer school this week, which means I get paid per diem to work in a ghost town. I was driving home yesterday and thought to myself, just 48 hours of this district left to go - hallelujah. As a work environment, it has headed in a quick downward spiral over the last two years. The lack of entries here are evidence of this; instead of being able to enjoy my job and the people in it, I've been driven increasingly crazy just trying to stay afloat in it.


The end of an era

On our last day together, I told her I would miss her, and almost fell out of my chair when she said she would miss me too. In true Spitfire fashion, she continued earnestly, "I met my new nurse. I don't like her at all, she's old and her hair is long and gray." It's the closest thing to a compliment that I'll get from her, and I'll take that, along with the big hug she gave me before she skipped out the door. Bye, Spitfire: the oldest soul trapped in the smallest body I know.