Today, when I loaded the 34-pound bag of dog food into my cart, I realized that the next time I need dog food, clinicals will be over.

The next time I pay my mortgage, clinicals will be over.

Two more grocery shopping days until clinicals are over.

By the time I get my tax refund, clinicals will be over.

Why are clinicals so awful, anyway? You’d think that if I want to be a nurse, I’d enjoy the time spent actually caring for patients. I do like caring for patients. What makes clinicals awful is the whole experience of being the nursing student on the unit, i.e. someone who doesn’t belong and is universally viewed as an idiot by everyone else. There is no species lower than the nursing student in a hospital. And everybody knows you’re a nursing student because you must wear your school uniform, with school badge affixed to the shoulder–the mark of your subjugation. You spend each clinical day feeling like you’re in the way, like you don’t belong and everybody whose path you cross is judging your performance. Each day is an endless tension.

But it’s almost over. The clinical part, anyway. There’s half of this week, plus two more full weeks and that is it.

Still have not heard if I have a job, but I did get an email from the hospital where I interviewed (on January 12) saying that there are many qualified applicants, etc, etc, and that we’ll hear around April 30th. I haven’t applied anywhere else. I’ve been too busy, for one thing, and I can’t start working until after we get back from Rome anyway. One cool thing about the hospital where I interviewed is that they don’t expect you to start working the minute you graduate. They actually encourage some relaxation time between the stress of school and the stress of starting a new job. So if they do hire me, at least I know they won’t give me a hard time about my plans for Rome.