I sit here the night before I begin my final semester of nursing school and a wave of emotions invade my mind. My final semester. Where exactly did the time go?
I'm excited. I've wanted this for such a long time, it's hard to believe I'm almost there.
I'm stressed. So much reading to do and I'm already behind. Time management has never been my forte.
I'm nervous. I know that I can do this, but there's always a small part of me that worries, "What if I don't pass?" (I have to say, though, after that last class I took, passing that helps me believe that I can just about do anything)
I'm relieved. The end is finally in sight.
I'm apprehensive. What if I don't do well as a nurse? What if I don't like it? I still feel as if I have barely scratched the surface with all there is to know, even though I know a lot more than I ever did before I started school. There's a lot of responsibility with the title....am I really ready?
I'm a little sad/scared mix. I have been a stay-at-home-mom for over 8 years now. Eight years of freedom to do what I want, when I want. When I graduate, I will have to go back to work for the first time in, by that time, 9 years. Nearly a decade. That's a BIG change. I will miss being able to jump at the drop of a hat to do whatever. I think this hit me hard realizing that this last Christmas could be my last Christmas off with family in a while. This is something that will take a while to get used to.
I'm enthusiastic. To finally have steady income and health insurance. Good health insurance.
I'm optimistic. I am hoping for the best job. One where I love to work, so that it's as if I am not working at all. I know for some, that seems like a dream, but in reality, I am just hoping I love what I do so much, more so than just having a "great job." I have hope that it will be everything I have looked forward to all these years.
I'm ready. I think.