Moving Day

Two weeks ago I moved out of my parents and into my very own home. This is the third time I have bought a place but this time there was a little more stress.

First, the rules for getting a mortgage have changed. Suddenly lenders are much more critical of who they are willing to lend money to. My credit was/is fine but the application has expanded and there is even more paper work to fill out. I felt like they were scrutinizing every financial decision I have ever made. Part of me feels like the lenders should have been more careful all along but that's just my opinion. It did amaze me how much money they were willing to lend me. I opted to stay on the lower end of that range since I don't want to be house poor and I'd like to be able to go out to eat, turn a light on and furnish the place.

The second stressful part was explaining why I spent a year working in Afghanistan. Apparently banks aren't eager to lend money to someone who as they said "had a real salary, didn't and do again." I was offended that I had to explain my choice. Yes, I agree it isn't something many people do. Yes, they do need to be careful in who they lend money to however doesn't my financial history demonstrate credibility? It must because they gave me a mortgage or maybe they aren't as stringent in their lending decisions as they would like for us to believe.

The move went well and many thanks to the friends that helped.

Its been exciting to unpack and get settled in. My stuff has been in boxes for almost two years -it was a little like Christmas opening each box. I forgot what I saved. Only a few times did I ask myself "why did I save this?" Its also been fun to buy the stuff I sold or gave away; couch, chair, plates, silverware and TV.

The picture is of my first uninvited house guest. Last weekend I was sitting on my patio and a wild turkey came down to welcome me to the neighborhood. I am so thankful for my new place. Its more then I expected and I truly feel blessed. I am looking forward to living in this town and in this house for as long as this chapter in my life will be.
Keep Smiling

Artifacts

I've been at my new job for 4-months and finally don't feel like a tourist anymore. When I was in pre-field training for Afghanistan the facilitators talked about how it takes 3-4 months for you to start to feel like you "get-it." You develop habits and start to settle into a routine. The danger is, the excitement wears off and you realize "jeez this is my life." When that happens the things that were "new and exciting" can become little stresses that wear on you.

I would say I have adjusted to the 45-minute drive. Its a pretty drive and the biggest traffic issue is getting behind a school bus on Rt 6. I count the hawks and the dead deer on the side of the road to pass the time. It still amazes me that there are dead spots for the satellite radio along the way and it never fails that I hit these spots during my favorite part of a song or during the most interesting part of a news story.

It's been a interesting few months as I learn to navigate the waters of working in a small rural community hospital. This is a good fit and I am going to get a ton of experience. It seems like everyone has either worked there 100 years or less then 5 years. Just about everyone is related to someone who works at the hospital, except for me. When I first started, they pegged me as the "city girl" since I live near Hartford. That made me chuckle because I wouldn't consider Hartford a major metropolis. But compared to the quiet northeast corner of CT, I guess it is. It is a very different environment then working in a teaching hospital. Not better and not worse, just different and equally as challenging.

Some of the challenges are the same when compared to Kabul; such as a very limited budget and the poverty. The poverty isn't as extreme but a large portion of our patient mix are under insured or self-pay. We struggle to maintain a census and are looking to grow those programs that generate revenue.

One thing that has been amusing is figuring out the nuances or artifacts of the women's bathroom. In any "culture" there are those unspoken rules that we are left to figure out on our own and the ladies room on the 4th floor as its own set. There are two stalls and at first look, nothing stands out. They look like average stalls: doors lock, toilet and toilet paper. But it appears only one person is allowed in the whole room at a time. Which begs the question, why the two stalls?

One women, locks the main door every time she goes in. I learned that the hard way by walking into the door because I was expecting it to open and it didn't. A few times I have been at the sink washing my hands when a second women came in and very awkwardly said, "I'll let you finish" and turned away and walked out. I don't understand, I was just washing my hands. And just yesterday someone walked in and when I flushed they walked out. Maybe there is a schedule and I'm only allowed to go at certain times? Who knows.

Keep Smiling!