The title of this post is a metaphor for the process I am about to undertake in order to reduce, once again, the number of loose papers I am carrying around with me (I think it is around 25 at this point). This time around I will simply describe, basically for nobody's benefit, the ones I am throwing away. In the past I have only put down here in writing the expansion of ideas I had jotted down in abstract; this time you will be subjected to the monotonous and uninteresting process in its entirety.
First to go is the wallet-sized copy of my temporary RN license, from when I switched it for the permanent license. I was carrying it with me temporarily. It will go, for lack of a better place, into our fireproof box with the full-size version of the same.
Next (to the recycle bin) is a list of potential substitutes for me for primary. I have a printed version now, courtesy of the primary secretary, so I can now eliminate this from the pile.
Next is a sliver of paper which has a reminder of something to write about in my journal. Instead, I will write about it now. I had a very crazy shift one day at work (July 30, specifically). One of the residents I was working with was very demanding that day, but I made an effort to be patient with her. At the end of the night, I told her that I would soon be turning my team over to the nurse for the graveyard shift. She said to me, "I wish you were staying." I knew that my efforts had been appreciated, and I felt good about myself as a nurse. It's those moments which make my work worthwhile, and those small validations are some of the greatest rewards of my career choice. Relatedly, I have recently been working with an elderly woman who has been very stressed with her family. I asked her son to leave the room for a moment and we had a quiet talk about how she was feeling about life. I asked her if she was doing all right, and she said, "any gal would be all right across from you." She expressed her opinion that my wife was a lucky woman, a sentiment with which I must agree. The readership (such as it is) of this blog is assured that I am not ignorant of my own luck in the spouse department.
Also on this same scrap is a note that, instead of spending the time and money to watch all the episodes of "Lost" I have missed since the end of season 1 (the last I saw of the show), I could just go to the website and read episode synopses. My imagination is very good, and I think this method of catching up would be satisfactory. I'm sure my desire to watch the actual episodes would be greater if I had not already heard that, after several seasons, not much of the mystery has been resolved.
The next (very small) scrap is a note to check out a particular brand of shoes sold at Z Best Shoes, in Sugarhouse. I think these are the ones with the big metal coil under the heel. My feet are frequently sore after work, and I have heard wonderful things about these shoes. I think I would do well to invest, if not in this particular type, at least in something more supportive than what I currently wear, which is the cheapest and most lightweight close-toed pair of shoes that exists. On the other side of this scrap is written "Euro Comfort - Danskos," a reference to another pair of shoes which has been recommended, this one with a rocker in the toe and heel. Also on this scrap is a note to listen to the archived episode of This American Life for August 4 (an interesting piece on the politics of the balloon-animal producers' world), and a note to buy a blackboard eraser to wipe the fog off the inside of my windshield. I read that tip in Good Housekeeping in the break room at work, and it sounds like a great idea. Last fall I had a terrible time trying to clear my windshield. To the consolidation-sheet go the ideas, and to the recycle bin goes the scrap. Whee!
Next is a scrap of a food wrapper, also with "blackboard eraser" written thereon. Go figure.
The recycle bin is next greatly enriched by the addition of two appointment reminder cards, one for August 18 and the other for May 23 (has it really been that long since I cleaned?).
I next confront a letter-size piece of paper which contains notes I made on Mosiah 4. I think I will scan and post the actual notes for your benefit, just so you can be entertained by how my mind works when I study. The other half of the sheet contains notes I made on another subject, and which I choose not to share at this time. Additionally, a blank full sheet of paper was found in the pile, folded into eighths. The notes will be preserved in the pile; the blank sheet will be recycled.
The next scrap contains the phone number of a guy I know, and three dates I needed to try and get off work. Recycled.
Next to the bin (after writing to the consolidation-sheet) is the ISBN of a book of easy piano favorites, and the URL of a government website (pueblo.gsa.gov) which publishes medically pertinent information for the general public.
"DRG diaphragms," says the next little paper, which probably seems enigmatic to most of you, but which represents a brand of stethoscope to me. Recycled after notation for further reference.
Now a little paper of notes from the last Priesthood session of General Conference. I forgot those were in there. I think I'll hang on to them.
The next quarter-sheet of notes is for the series on Leadership which I still intend to complete in this blog.
A nurse I work with said that once she and her husband were in a very bad situation financially. Her upstairs neighbor, an elderly woman, knocked on her door and asked for her laundry and ironing. She countered this nurse's objections by saying that she wanted to do something to help, and she would appreciate the opportunity. The nurse told me that this neighbor did her ironing until their situation improved, and that it was much appreciated. I thought it a fine story. There is always something we can do to serve. Now that I have written that down, one more paper is gone.
The next few sheets are more or less permanent fixtures in the group. One is a scribble Isaac made as one of his first attempts at crayon use, under which Alison wrote "I love Daddy." It is too heart-melting to lose quite yet. Another is a typewritten sheet of things I consolidated from past papers. There is another of notes for part 2 of the leadership thing. Six more notes that will be kept for later and several pass-along cards, and we have reached the end of the pile.
Of course, I also carry with those notes a metal-cased notebook I bought at Barnes & Noble which contains my lists of movies to see, books to read, jokes worth telling, past conference talks I am interested in looking up sometime, marimba music to buy/learn, classical pieces I want to listen to/buy, scripture passages worth pondering or memorizing, things to do (or eat) if I ever make it back to Italy, inventions I read about in Discover magazines a few years ago whose development I am still interested in following, gift ideas for Alison, gift ideas for me, and gift ideas for other people. This notebook has plenty of empty sheets, but I am saving them for less transitory things than the rest of the pile generally contains. Although, now that I think about it, it makes sense for me to use the notebook AS my pile of papers, since the pages are individually removable/discardable. I'll have to think about whether to sully the purity of the notebook in this manner.
Well, there you have it. Another successful use of this blog for its intended purpose.
First to go is the wallet-sized copy of my temporary RN license, from when I switched it for the permanent license. I was carrying it with me temporarily. It will go, for lack of a better place, into our fireproof box with the full-size version of the same.
Next (to the recycle bin) is a list of potential substitutes for me for primary. I have a printed version now, courtesy of the primary secretary, so I can now eliminate this from the pile.
Next is a sliver of paper which has a reminder of something to write about in my journal. Instead, I will write about it now. I had a very crazy shift one day at work (July 30, specifically). One of the residents I was working with was very demanding that day, but I made an effort to be patient with her. At the end of the night, I told her that I would soon be turning my team over to the nurse for the graveyard shift. She said to me, "I wish you were staying." I knew that my efforts had been appreciated, and I felt good about myself as a nurse. It's those moments which make my work worthwhile, and those small validations are some of the greatest rewards of my career choice. Relatedly, I have recently been working with an elderly woman who has been very stressed with her family. I asked her son to leave the room for a moment and we had a quiet talk about how she was feeling about life. I asked her if she was doing all right, and she said, "any gal would be all right across from you." She expressed her opinion that my wife was a lucky woman, a sentiment with which I must agree. The readership (such as it is) of this blog is assured that I am not ignorant of my own luck in the spouse department.
Also on this same scrap is a note that, instead of spending the time and money to watch all the episodes of "Lost" I have missed since the end of season 1 (the last I saw of the show), I could just go to the website and read episode synopses. My imagination is very good, and I think this method of catching up would be satisfactory. I'm sure my desire to watch the actual episodes would be greater if I had not already heard that, after several seasons, not much of the mystery has been resolved.
The next (very small) scrap is a note to check out a particular brand of shoes sold at Z Best Shoes, in Sugarhouse. I think these are the ones with the big metal coil under the heel. My feet are frequently sore after work, and I have heard wonderful things about these shoes. I think I would do well to invest, if not in this particular type, at least in something more supportive than what I currently wear, which is the cheapest and most lightweight close-toed pair of shoes that exists. On the other side of this scrap is written "Euro Comfort - Danskos," a reference to another pair of shoes which has been recommended, this one with a rocker in the toe and heel. Also on this scrap is a note to listen to the archived episode of This American Life for August 4 (an interesting piece on the politics of the balloon-animal producers' world), and a note to buy a blackboard eraser to wipe the fog off the inside of my windshield. I read that tip in Good Housekeeping in the break room at work, and it sounds like a great idea. Last fall I had a terrible time trying to clear my windshield. To the consolidation-sheet go the ideas, and to the recycle bin goes the scrap. Whee!
Next is a scrap of a food wrapper, also with "blackboard eraser" written thereon. Go figure.
The recycle bin is next greatly enriched by the addition of two appointment reminder cards, one for August 18 and the other for May 23 (has it really been that long since I cleaned?).
I next confront a letter-size piece of paper which contains notes I made on Mosiah 4. I think I will scan and post the actual notes for your benefit, just so you can be entertained by how my mind works when I study. The other half of the sheet contains notes I made on another subject, and which I choose not to share at this time. Additionally, a blank full sheet of paper was found in the pile, folded into eighths. The notes will be preserved in the pile; the blank sheet will be recycled.
The next scrap contains the phone number of a guy I know, and three dates I needed to try and get off work. Recycled.
Next to the bin (after writing to the consolidation-sheet) is the ISBN of a book of easy piano favorites, and the URL of a government website (pueblo.gsa.gov) which publishes medically pertinent information for the general public.
"DRG diaphragms," says the next little paper, which probably seems enigmatic to most of you, but which represents a brand of stethoscope to me. Recycled after notation for further reference.
Now a little paper of notes from the last Priesthood session of General Conference. I forgot those were in there. I think I'll hang on to them.
The next quarter-sheet of notes is for the series on Leadership which I still intend to complete in this blog.
A nurse I work with said that once she and her husband were in a very bad situation financially. Her upstairs neighbor, an elderly woman, knocked on her door and asked for her laundry and ironing. She countered this nurse's objections by saying that she wanted to do something to help, and she would appreciate the opportunity. The nurse told me that this neighbor did her ironing until their situation improved, and that it was much appreciated. I thought it a fine story. There is always something we can do to serve. Now that I have written that down, one more paper is gone.
The next few sheets are more or less permanent fixtures in the group. One is a scribble Isaac made as one of his first attempts at crayon use, under which Alison wrote "I love Daddy." It is too heart-melting to lose quite yet. Another is a typewritten sheet of things I consolidated from past papers. There is another of notes for part 2 of the leadership thing. Six more notes that will be kept for later and several pass-along cards, and we have reached the end of the pile.
Of course, I also carry with those notes a metal-cased notebook I bought at Barnes & Noble which contains my lists of movies to see, books to read, jokes worth telling, past conference talks I am interested in looking up sometime, marimba music to buy/learn, classical pieces I want to listen to/buy, scripture passages worth pondering or memorizing, things to do (or eat) if I ever make it back to Italy, inventions I read about in Discover magazines a few years ago whose development I am still interested in following, gift ideas for Alison, gift ideas for me, and gift ideas for other people. This notebook has plenty of empty sheets, but I am saving them for less transitory things than the rest of the pile generally contains. Although, now that I think about it, it makes sense for me to use the notebook AS my pile of papers, since the pages are individually removable/discardable. I'll have to think about whether to sully the purity of the notebook in this manner.
Well, there you have it. Another successful use of this blog for its intended purpose.
My notes on selected verses of Mosiah 4
5 comments:
You say my pockets are too small, but I say your pockets are much too big! :-)
A friend of mine at work, who used to detail cars, said that fast drying solvents are best for cleaning the inside of a window, Windex excluded. You probably already have rubbing alcohol, but Xylene and any other alcohols work too. As long as it's quick-drying, you can avoid streaks with solvents.
Thanks for the tip, J&B...the specific problem I was addressing is my windows fogging up faster than my defrost can handle it. In the past I have used a towel in the car to try and keep it dry, but it hasn't worked very well.
I enjoyed this musing very much. I do admit that I would have loved to have been able to enlarge the notes as to view them. Ah, age - my eyesight is certainly failing.
I love your notes. I find myself with notes stuck in my purse even though I keep a notebook in my purse for just such an occasion.
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