Eastside 10-90

21 hundred hours. Eyes bloodshot and sore. Staring at this computer screen while my mind runs in circles over the events of these past couple days. I think the emotion cord of my brain got mysteriously disconnected as I've been neutral and void of any real feelings lately. I'm not sure if I'm trying to protect myself from getting scarred or just naturally insensitive. Maybe it's a little bit of both. I remember being a student and working with all these paramedics and EMT's that were so confident and secure in what they were doing. I remember thinking that I couldn't wait to get a job and be like that. No longer uncertain. My prediction- it'll take me a year. In a year to a year and a half I will be off probation, considered a competent employee and presented with my applets. One silver stripe on each shoulder to show my rank and position. I think when that happens, then I will feel like those employees do. Then I will show up to work with a pulse rate that isn't in the hundreds.