A depressing glimpse into my future.

Fall semester started yesterday.

And I already do NOT know how I am going to survive and it's only the end of day two.

I have get to be at the school by 7 am everyday. It was only going to be Monday - Thursday, but one of my professors thought it might be good to add another hour of class on Friday as well. 

At 7 am.

And I am NOT a morning person. I get cranky, angry, sooo not cute, my eyes are swollen/red/puffy/bloodshot and I hate the world for being up at the time of the morning.

On the upside, I am taking a class called the Care and Prevention of Athletic Injuries! I am actually super stoked. Not only because that is what I want to do after graduation but because I am a student trainer in the athletic room at school.

The past few weeks I have really been questioning career choice.

A couple weeks ago I was taping a bag of ice on a sweaty mans thigh, when a drop of his sweat landed squarely on face.

Me: Oh... my... gosh... You just SWEAT on my FACE.

Soccer player: Oops, sorry... (totally not caring at all!)

Me: Seriously, don't you ever do that again. I'm serious. I won't treat you if you do that again.

Side note. He was supposed to shower between practice and treatment.

Yesterday, a 6 foot 8 basketball player had a blister. I dutifully grabbed a pair of gloves, gauze, and a sterile needle (he specifically asked for a clean one) and popped his blister, then squeezed all the liquid out of it. I set him up in a warm whirl pool with some Betadine and thought I was done.

My co-worker noticed his ridiculously nasty calloused feet and toenails that were so long they curled under his toes, and volunteered me to shave off his callouses and clip his toenails.

I used the callous shaver on his feet for an hour... I timed it. During which we had a lovely conversation on keeping your feet in good health and how he will prevent this from ever happening again, his home country (Holland) and the five languages he spoke. He joked about paying me when I was done and was also asked by some of his other teammates if I would give them a pedicure, too. It was great.

As I was clipping his toenails he asked me "what do you want to do with your major when you graduate?" Then it hit me and I told him "be an athletic trainer... so this." 

Ew.

I finally finished and Jasper, the player, pulled out his wallet and handed me a 20 dollar bill. I of course rejected his generosity, even though I totally deserved it. He owes me cookies instead.

Today another soccer player came in who had warts all over his arm. He got his arm caught (somewhere, still not sure) and pulled off part of his warts. We were lucky enough to pull them off the rest.

And I chose this...? There better be a cool concussion or broken ankle on Saturday while I work the soccer game, because those are so much more fun!