Financial Planning Informative Speech

Discourse 4 †Informative Speech We have a posse of confused bozos directing our boat of state directly over a bluff, we have corporate criminals taking us visually impaired, and we can't tidy up after a tropical storm considerably less form a cross breed vehicle. Be that as it may, rather than getting distraught, everybody lounges around and gestures their heads when the legislators state, â€Å"Stay the course. † Stay the course? You must child. This is America, not the condemned Titanic. ~ Lee Iacocca Finance arranging legend. A likely furious Lee Iacocca was showing that account is something that must be pre-arranged, arranged, rethought and even post-planned.Financial arranging in itself doesn't include simply setting spending plans, wage rates or cutoff times. It is tied in with becoming more acquainted with sensible work routine, the way wherein they can be executed, back up plans that can be utilized and minimal expense with the assistance of which the whole undert aking can be executed. So essentially, budgetary arranging and development anticipating, both include, the responses to the 4 significant inquiries, why, when, where and how (answers must be cost situated). Steps in Long Term Financial PlanningStep 1: Let us take the case of a café, though a budgetary organizer, one needs to discover authentic responses to 4 inquiries, specifically: Why would it be a good idea for us to deliver a particular thing on the menu card? (consider cost of creation and deals cost) When would it be advisable for us to deliver such a thing and for what time term? (remember occasional costs, expansion of crude material costs) Where would it be advisable for us to deliver the thing, directly in the shop or some creation community? (consider transport cost, nature of merchandise and selling cost) How would it be a good idea for one to create the thing, physically or precisely? consider hardware and faculty cost) Step 2: The subsequent advance is to survey your business condition. In this progression, reviewing the contender's presentation, evaluating and conveyance is a flat out need. In such a situation, you may likewise set up a cost sheet of the monetary highlights of creation, to be specific, the cash that you would need to contribute as an assembling cost, its business cost, and the benefit that it would yield. Legitimately, the deal cost ought to be more than the cost and the arrival over resource proportion/return over speculation proportion ought to be healthy.While settling these three figures, you should mull over 3 significant viewpoints. Normal spending limit of your clients. Your rival's quality, amount and cost. Ubiquity of the item, expected market, client holding limit of the item, and so forth. Despite the fact that the pattern of such items is progressively exploratory in nature, they may turn out to be full-time, open most loved items, consequently it is additionally imperative to make a money related arrangement to rec uperate misfortunes, that emerge in the trial time frame, until the item builds up itself in the market.Step 3: The third and fourth step are increasingly expository in nature and from the account perspective, they are likewise very far reaching. The possibility that you have to actualize in the third step is portion of assets in such a way, that you will in general make a certifiable benefit in deals, during the since a long time ago run. In this progression, you will utilize and examining income proclamations on very nearly a regular schedule. The key is to have uniform money surges for back to back days/months/years. Money outpouring is fundamentally all costs and misfortunes. Misfortunes are very wild yet costs are unquestionably controllable.Hence scan for crude material sources, labor and creation forms that will assist you with maintaining a uniform and low for every unit cost for the thing/item. For instance have ordinary providers, who will flexibly at a concurred and unifo rm expense. This consistency will in the end prove to be useful to check and control surprising misfortunes, and will likewise assist you with keeping a decent hold over the market. The second piece of the third step is making money related arrangements. This is significant because of the way that no business is sans hazard. Such arrangements incorporate development to the crude material provider, protection, arrangements for terrible obligations, additional administrations, etc.Step 4: I might want to call this progression as hold, support and engage. This progression is a serious propelled one, and fundamentally incorporates a wide range of viewpoints, that target holding the clients. The principal significant capacity of this progression is to create ordinary information and income explanations. With the assistance of these announcements you will acknowledge whether that very thing on the menu is ending up being beneficial or not. Simultaneously, you additionally need to keep up an explanation that records money inflows and outpourings over a more extended timeframe (in months or a quarter).Thus, you will acknowledge what is beneficial for your business, and what your clients need. To summarize the entire hypothesis, it tends to be said that drawn out fund arranging is a 3 dimensional chart, with client, item and market being the measurements. The embodiment of cost and time are added to each measurement. All things considered, the way to effective long haul budgetary arranging is to encourage every one of the three measurements legitimately, remembering the quintessence of time and cash. Peruse more at Buzzle: http://www. buzzle. com/articles/long haul budgetary arranging. html

PSYC101 WorksheetTotal Points possible 100Place y Essays

PSYC101 WorksheetTotal Points conceivable: 100Place your first and last name, understudy ID and the date of your worksheet consummation in the spaces below.Student Name:Student ID: Date: This worksheet is expected by 11:55pm ET Sunday toward the finish of Week 6 of the course termYou may deal with it in front of its cutoff time however may not submit it preceding its alloted week. OVERVIEW:This worksheet requires unloading the key components of a distributed insightful diary article and exhibiting APA source reference aptitudes, exercises you will take part in much of the time in the culmination of an assortment of assignments including expositions, inquire about papers and writing surveys in future courses. To finish the worksheet, download and spare a duplicate of it with your first and last name in the record title, answer the inquiries and connect your finished duplicate. Citing isn't allowed. All answers must be composed as summarizes, implying that you should rehash what you re ad in your own words, except for specialized terms, for example, the names of analytic tests. You are not required to source credit the article in your responses to the Section I Key Article Components questions. Segment II, Source refering to and reference posting in APA position is the place you will exhibit information on the most proficient method to effectively arrange source crediting in APA style. Answers will be evaluated for precision, meticulousness, clearness and right spelling and grammar.No substance of this record might be expelled or reordered. Answers must be embedded in the spaces gave. ================================================================================== Segment I:KEY ARTICLE COMPONENTS 1. Past research and writers' bases for leading their study100 word minimumAfter perusing the article's initial five passages, in the space beneath answer these two inquiries: What past research has been directed on the article writers' equivalent or comparable points? What were their clarifications for why their investigation was needed?2. Research technique used50 word minimumIn the space underneath, portray the sort of research strategy that the article writers utilized in leading their examination and clarify why it was appropriate for an examination of their subject (Ex: individual or gathering meeting, contextual analysis, lab controlled or naturalistic perception; organization of mental tests). Allude back to the course reading material part on investigate techniques for an audit of strategy types and their motivations. 3. Members engaged with the examination 100 word length minimumIn the space underneath, portray in story structure (records and sentence pieces can't be utilized) the qualities of the members associated with the exploration study led by the article writers. What was the quantity of people who took an interest; where were they enlisted from; what were the member socioeconomics; were any member screening systems directed; what rules were utilized to figure out who partook in the examination and who didn't; were members paid or did they get some other sort of pay for being engaged with the investigation; and so forth. Note: Some of the above data is given in the article's Measures segment, so you will need to utilize both it and the Members and Procedures segments to respond to these inquiries. 4. Measures usedIn the space underneath, list the measures utilized in the article writers' examination. 5. Information analysesIn the space underneath, list the information examinations used to break down the information accumulated during the article writers' investigation. Note: You don't need to know how the examinations are directed; just naming them is required here. 6. Study resultsIn the space beneath sum up the consequences of the examination directed by the article writers. 7. DiscussionIn the space beneath, sum up the ends came to by the writers in the last seven passages of their article. What were their understandings of the examination results? What confinements of their examination and required future research did they note?SECTION IISOURCE CITING AND REFERENCE LISTING IN APA FORMATTip: If required, instances of how to source credit in APA arranging style can be found in the Online Writing Lab, situated at https://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/asset/560/01/The writers of the article are: Weili Lu, Philip T. Yanos, Steven M. Silverstein, Kim T. Mueser, Stanley D. Rosenberg, Jennifer D. Gottlieb, Stephanie Marcello Duva, Thanuja Kularatne, Stephanie Dove-Williams, Danielle Paterno, Danielle Hawthorne, and Giovanna Giacobbe.The article's title is: Public Mental Health Clients with Severe Mental Illness and Probable Posttraumatic Stress Disorde r: Trauma Exposure and Correlates of Symptom SeverityThe article was distributed in Volume 26, on

25 Stories of Getting Accepted to MIT

25 Stories of Getting Accepted to MIT Note: all stories below are unedited accounts of current and former students MIT acceptance moments, prompted by a pre-Pi Day email thread.   We had a snow day and when I called my grandmother to tell her, she screamed loud enough that the person on the other side of the living room heard her (she was not on speaker). N.T. ‘21 (Early Action) I bought a large quantity of ice cream the night before. If I got in, I would eat the ice cream to celebrate; if I did not, I would eat the ice cream to make myself feel better. M.B. ‘17   I had just finished the morning milking and was setting up some electric fence for the cows when decisions came out. I could get 1 bar of wifi on my phone in one corner of the field, but not enough speed to load my decision before the server timed out, or so I thought. I found out later that the server had pretty much quit for a few hours after decisions came out, and had to wait about 90 minutes before I could get the page to load. Oh yeah, my mother screamed. I didnt. R.M. ‘19   I just got off from McDonalds and sat by myself in the parking lot to open the letter. I almost crashed the car driving home because I was crying so much, and when I got to my house my parents were waiting to ask if I got in or not, and then they were crying, too. E.T. 20 I had just gotten rejected from Caltech earlier that week and was feeling pretty down. I was so confident I’d get rejected, I didn’t even check that morning since my friends and I were going to a math competition that day. Not with a teacher or a team or anything, just none of us had ever experienced much non-classroom math, so we thought we’d go for the heck of it. We had no experience and no clue what we were doing, but a lot of fun. In the car on the way home I pulled out my phone to check. I tried to be all nonchalant about it so my mom wouldn’t see my look of sadness when it came. I figured, MIT is for those other kids at the math competition that actually know what they’re doing, not silly me. When I saw those magical words, I immediately read them three times to make sure they were real. Then I screamed, my mom screamed, and somehow she managed to half hug me while driving. I rolled down the window and put my arms and head out the window and screamed some more, and it was the most amazing feeling. L.K. 19   (not pi day; early action, but still) I was alone in my room with my dog on my bed. I had her there for reasons similar to M.B. ‘17’s ice cream: if I got in, shed get hugs. If I didnt, shed still get hugs and Id feel better. I was absolutely convinced I wouldnt get in because I wasnt even in the top 10% at my school, and most of the other schools I applied to were art schools anyway. My family walked in while I was tearing up and hugging my dog, and it took me about a minute to get the words together to tell them the good news. My dog didnt know what was going on but she was down to party anyway. S.A. ‘19 Early Action story: The decision came out a couple hours after school ended, and I had homework to do, but I was too stressed out to concentrate. I decided to play video games to distract myself and, as it turns out, it worked too well. About an hour after the decisions came out, my parents came home and were all like, “hey so did you get in?” and I was like, “OH RIGHT MIT LET ME JUST SAVE MY GAME AAAAAA” and then came the screaming and the excitement and the frantic emailing of friends and relatives etc. etc. etc. R.T. ‘20 Did EA, decisions came out around 12:15pm. Went to bed super late so I didnt have to wait once I woke up. Woke up right before they came out, checked, felt happy, went back to sleep for a few more minutes. o/ S.M. 19 It was Pi Day. I was sitting on the couch at home and hoping Id be able to load the website before having to head to orchestra rehearsal. I loved MIT, but I tried to keep my hopes really low after applying. I was convinced I wasnt [x] or [y] or [z] enough for MIT. When the website loaded and I skimmed that page for the result, I yelped and burst into tears. My dad was downstairs and wasnt able to tell if I was crying cause I got in or not, until I managed to get a complete sentence out through the tears. IHTFP but that was a special day. E.M. ‘20   I was working on a final project in my room. My girlfriend was helping because my hands were shaking too hard to cut the paper cleanly, and I was talking loudly about anything and everything that would distract me. We had made a bet if I didn’t get in, she owed me dinner, and if I did, I owed her. I checked at like 6:24 ”””just to make sure it was working”””” and read just the first line and couldn’t believe what happened. I told my girlfriend that I owed her dinner. It took her a second to figure it out. We freaked out as quietly as possible so as not to alert my parents who were home at that time “for no reason.” I wore my hoodie downstairs, my parents saw and freaked out, etc. I went to my robotics team meeting later that night my robotics coach (talking about the best time for sending some email) had mentioned earlier that week that he felt like “the stars were going to align,” so I confirmed when I got there that the stars had IN FACT aligned, and he should send his email now for optimal results. I had to pull an all nighter to finish the project because I couldn’t stop freaking out enough to focus, and fell asleep the moment I got home the next day. Anonymous ‘21       I was early action. I was afraid to look it up because I knew I didnt get in. I figured that if the tube didnt come by Christmas, I would double check that I had gotten rejected and leave it at that. It lasted about two weeks before the college guidance counselor came up T: Hey I heard you havent checked to see if you got into MIT. Me: Nope. T: Okay. But someone from MIT noticed and wanted to know if youre excited. Me: Why? T: What? Me: Either I in, and Im excited, or I didnt in which case why would MIT even care about me in the first place? T: Maya. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! (it still took me an hour to open the decisions page) I didnt talk-tell what my parents: I sewed MIT onto the back of a red sweatshirt and wore it that night, so they figured it out that way (I was staunchly anti-periphenalia before that) Maya K. 19     The website crashed when I tried to check on pi day, so I went to take a shower. While I was in the shower the website loaded, so my mom yelled you got in!!! through the bathroom door. I heard her and continued to shower. M.M. ‘19   (December vice pi day, but) I was on a weeklong school trip, staying at a hotel in Okinawa, Japan. (My school was a DoD school, also in Japan, so this was not as cool as it sounds.) I didnt have a smartphone, so I had to check on one of two hotel lobby computers, both of which had Japanese keyboards that were really hard to figure out. When I saw I got in, I involuntarily screamed, which, for the record, I dont think Ive ever done before or since. (It was my first acceptance anywhere, so that played a part, too.) It turns out Japanese hotel lobbies are very quiet, and acceptance screams are very loud. I was afraid I was going to get kicked out, but I guess happiness outbursts transcend language barriers, because the staff congratulated me. Matt C. ‘15 I was driving on the fast lane on the Freeway and couldn’t help but check. Almost crashed, definitely not my smartest idea. tl;dr do not try at home kidz. A.M. ‘19   My dad was driving me to a robotics scrimmage. Recovery by Frank Turner was playing on the radio. I cried happy tears while reading the letter. I got to the scrimmage, found out my then-boyfriend had been deferred, and proceeded to feel incredibly guilty and cry a lot of sad tears. We almost broke up every week or so for the next several months. M.P. ‘19 I was working after school on a project (on the west coast), when I realized it was almost time. I told my friend (who also applied) this, and we both went outside with our laptops. I vividly remember sitting outside the computer lab underneath the awning so as to avoid the bright suns glare, my back studded by the stucco wall. At 3:28, we both checked. I got in; he did not. We both got back to work. Anonymous ‘20   I was accepted early, so not actually on Pi Day. On the day of, I was in the middle of a week-long visit to see my cousins/extended family in Florida and I hid in their spare room to check results. I cried silently when I saw that I had been accepted; my cousin accidentally walked in and thought I had been rejected. Once I regained composure (which took quite a while) I went back downstairs to tell everyone. They were all gathered in the living room pretending not to be waiting for me, and they had planned dinner somewhere fancy with the idea that it would be celebration if I was accepted or consolation if I was rejected. K.C. ‘18   Well, I woke up from a three-hour nap and I was going to start writing my Hamlet essay. I was certain Id get rejected. Anyways, Im in the kitchen with my mother and my sister, and I check. My phone was blurry; I could only see exclamation points, so I deduced that I was probably not reading a rejection letter. Apparently, my face was a sight to see. So yes Im screaming and in much disbelief. My parents and sister proceed to contact everyone in the familiaâ„¢. I think I held 4 phones in this time span which looking back does not make much sense. A few hours later I was working on my Hamlet essay. We then hear the door bell. My mother thinks its some neighbor complaining about my sisters tuba playing. Then we hear it again. My mother then thinks its some creep and demands that everyone stay away from the first floor. A few moments later I receive a text from a friend that she was at my house and wanted to eat cookies to celebrate our college acceptances. The cookies were pretty good. D. G. ‘21     i remember my parents were convinced i wouldnt get in and forcibly tried to not make a big deal out of pi day to lessen the inevitable pain by making me watch a movie with them during the announcement Anonymous ‘18 As a nice little contrast I was the one who didnt want to make it a big deal, so I only told my parents and sister about applying to MIT and when the results were coming out. Yet that day I was staying with my grandma, and when I screamed, she almost had a heart attack and rushed to the room I had locked myself in. When I told her, she was super excited and jumped with me for a couple of minutes before asking So.. whats MIT? (for Dec. 15th, not Pi day, but w.e.) F. M. ‘17   I found out that my parents put me in a future MIT graduate onesie as a child but never showed the pictures in case it would be pressuring. Then they gave me a baby-sized stuffed rabbit with said onesie. A.L. ‘17   My dad and I were judging an FLL tournament in December 2013, and I didnt get my lunch break until a few hours after decisions came out. I asked a random parent who was probably intimidated by my judges shirt to borrow her phone because I couldnt get mine to connect to the internet and my dad didnt have a smartphone yet. My dad gave me a congratulations handshake when I told him I got in because he doesnt know how to handle his emotions. A.M. ‘18 (early action) I was at a math competition with a few friends who also applied to MIT. The decision would come out during the competition, but we decided that we would not check until after we got home, so that it wouldnt affect our mood and impact our performance. Anonymous ‘18 (EA but) I was studying for a final the next day with a friend who also applied. We both checked at the same time. I got in, he got deferred. I had to go to the bathroom so that I wouldnt be too excited in front of him. (oh I forgot about the more exciting part) I drove to Starbucks to congratulate myself and as a study break and then took a single wrong turn that ended up having no cross-streets or turnaround areas, which took me halfway to the next town over and got me super lost and eventually I just did a semi-sketchy U-turn. M.V. ‘20     It was a snow day and I forgot what day it was. My parents were shoveling and came back in to where I was working and were like its 6:28. It took me way too long to figure out why that was significant and then I couldnt quite believe the thing when I read it. A.B. ‘21 I got my decision on Pi Day I did not have my life anywhere near together enough to do EA. Even though it was the very last decision I would receive, and Id been rejected from literally every other school Id applied to (except our state college), I was foolishly confident I might have a chance primarily because Id only applied to MIT on a whim when my mom had suggested it; Id barely heard of it and thought it was a medium-tier school or so. All I knew is that I didnt have to write any long essays, so I was all for that. Then my best friend (already a year out of high school) came over on Pi Day to hang out for a bit, and I casually mentioned that the MIT decisions were coming out later. He proceeded to get really excited and started going on and on about how MIT was the best school in the world and that I would certainly, *definitely* get in. Id had no idea that it had the reputation it did needless to say, this thoroughly convinced me that I had zero chance whatsoever. Hed brought one of his college friends I didnt know too well, and they were going on and on about how cool it would be if I got in, and around Tau oclock I decided to log in a couple of minutes early just to see. They were arguing about something random when I saw the words on the screen and just said, hey guys? My best friend screamed and threw his arms around me and wouldnt let go (or stop screaming) for several minutes. When he finally did let go, I saw on my phone a notification that hed somehow tagged me in a congratulatory Facebook post. Apparently hed had it prepared to post mid-hug. S.G. ‘18 Post Tagged #Early Action #Pi Day #Regular Action

A Brief History of Writing

The history of writing instruments, which humans have used to record and convey  thoughts, feelings and grocery lists is, in some ways, the history of civilization itself. It is through the drawings, signs, and words weve recorded that weve come to understand the story of our species.   Some of the first tools used by early humans were the hunting club and the handy sharpened-stone. The latter, initially used as an all-purpose skinning and killing tool, was later adapted into the first writing instrument. Cavemen scratched pictures with the sharpened-stone tool onto the walls of  cave dwellings. These drawings represented events in daily life such as the planting of crops or hunting victories. With time, the record-keepers developed systematized symbols from their drawings. These symbols represented words and sentences, but were easier and faster to draw. Over time, these symbols became shared and universalized among small, groups and later, across different groups and tribes as well. It was the discovery of clay that made portable records possible. Early merchants used clay tokens with pictographs to record the quantities of materials traded or shipped. These tokens date back to about 8500 B.C. With the high volume of and the repetition inherent in record keeping, pictographs evolved and slowly lost their detail. They became abstract-figures representing sounds in spoken communication. Around 400 B.C., the Greek alphabet was developed and began to replace pictographs as the most commonly-used form of visual communication. Greek was the first script written from left to right. From Greek followed the Byzantine and then the Roman writings. In the beginning, all writing systems had only uppercase letters, but when the writing instruments were refined enough for detailed faces, lowercase was used as well (around 600 A.D.) The Greeks employed a writing stylus made of metal, bone or ivory to place marks upon wax-coated tablets. The tablets were made in hinged pairs and closed to protect the scribes notes. The first examples of handwriting also originated in Greece and it was the Grecian scholar Cadmus who invented the written alphabet. Across the globe, writing was developing beyond chiseling pictures into stone or wedging pictographs into wet clay. The Chinese invented and perfected Indian Ink. Originally designed for blacking the surfaces of raised stone-carved hieroglyphics, the ink was a mixture of soot from pine smoke and lamp oil mixed with the gelatin of donkey skin and musk. By 1200 B.C., the ink invented by the Chinese philosopher, Tien-Lcheu (2697 B.C.), became common. Other cultures developed inks using the natural dyes and colors derived from berries, plants and minerals. In early writings, different colored inks had ritual meaning attached to each color. The invention of ink  paralleled that of of paper. The early Egyptians, Romans, Greeks and Hebrews used papyrus and parchment papers began using parchment paper around 2000 B.C., when the earliest piece of writing on Papyrus known to us today, the Egyptian Prisse Papyrus was created.   The Romans created a reed-pen perfect for parchment and ink from the hollow tubular-stems of marsh grasses, especially from the jointed bamboo plant. They converted bamboo stems into a primitive form of fountain pen and cut one end into the form of a pen nib or point. A writing fluid or ink filled the stem and squeezing the reed forced fluid to the nib. By the year 400, a stable form of ink developed, a composite of iron-salts, nutgalls and gum. This became the basic formula for centuries. Its color when first applied to paper was a bluish-black, rapidly turning into a darker black before fading to the familiar dull brown color commonly seen in old documents. Wood-fiber paper was invented in China in the year 105 but was not widely used throughout Europe until paper mills were built in the late 14th century. The writing instrument that dominated for the longest period in history (over one-thousand years) was the quill pen. Introduced around the year 700, the quill is a pen made from a bird feather. The strongest quills were those taken from living birds in the spring from the five outer left wing feathers. The left wing was favored because the feathers curved outward and away when used by a right-handed writer. Quill pens lasted for only a week before it was necessary to replace them. There were other disadvantages associated with their use, including a lengthy preparation time. Early European writing parchments made from animal skins required careful scraping and cleaning. To sharpen the quill, the writer needed a special knife.  Ã‚  Beneath the writers high-top desk was a coal stove, used to dry the ink as quickly as possible. Plant-fiber paper became the primary medium for writing after another dramatic invention took place. In 1436,  Johannes Gutenberg  invented the printing press with replaceable wooden or metal letters. Later, newer printing technologies were developed based on Gutenbergs printing machine, such as offset printing. The ability to mass-produce writing in this way revolutionized the way  humans communicate. As much as any other invention since the sharpened-stone, Gutenbergs printing press set forth a new era of human history.

Career As A Nurse Practitioner - 1716 Words

Who you are and what do you want to do with your life is a question asked early on in most people’s lives. For this question there is no certain answer. It is all dependent on the individual. Career-wise there are many options ranging from scientific research to professional sports. For many, a career in the medical field is a perfectly viable option. Jobs here, sit at the forefront of medical science, offers a chance to give back to the health of the human population, as well as offer opportunities in administration or business ownership. Here, we will take a look at at Advanced Practice Registered Nursing. Luckily, I had recently had the opportunity to interview one of these individuals. I interviewed Mrs. Ruth Benitez in regards to her position as a Nurse Practitioner and got a surplus of information in regards to the career. A career as a Nurse Practitioner offers a solid in-between in faucets both business and medically speaking. APRN s are held up to the same standards a s regular Registered Nurses, meaning doing patient rounds and ensuring well-being of said patients. This would entail running and ordering diagnostic tests to provide physiological medical treatments. Scope of this would range from simple blood draws to full physical check-ups. Plus, considering the medical career shortage many APRN s work independently of physicians. This extends their abilities further to things such as prescribing medication. The other half of the job is more business related.Show MoreRelatedThe Career Of A Pediatric Nurse Practitioner1233 Words   |  5 PagesPediatric Nurse Practitioner According to Orison Swett Morden â€Å"There is no medicine like hope, no incentive so great, and no tonic so powerful as expectation of something better tomorrow†. The career of a pediatric nurse practitioner is fulfilling, because of helping others. 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They allow more scope and liberty of clinical practice in nursing. It gives nurse an opportunity to advance their career. This essay gives an overview of three expanded careers nurse practitionerRead MoreBenefits Of Being A Nurse Practitioner1162 Words   |  5 PagesA nurse practitio ner is a profession that permits nurses to practice medicine with limited supervision, and they can practice without a doctorate degree. This profession generally has more authority than registered nurses because nurse practitioners are allowed to treat patients independently, and they receive a greater salary. However, there are some disadvantages to this career as well, such as getting tired easily and a lot more responsibility. Even though a nurse practitioner gets to do many

Sunshine Chapter 11 Free Essays

string(89) " response feels like it ought to be something like passing the salt or closing the door\." Silence fell. Some things hadn’t changed. â€Å"Bo is looking for me,† I said at last. We will write a custom essay sample on Sunshine Chapter 11 or any similar topic only for you Order Now â€Å"Yes,† he said. â€Å"I’m sorry,† I said humbly, â€Å"I don’t know what to do. I†¦I†¦All I did was drive out to the lake, that night, and everything else†¦I’m sorry,† I said again, a little wildly, and only too aware of the irony: â€Å"I don’t want to die, you know?† â€Å"Yes,† he said again. This time I heard the pause as one of those â€Å"you’re not going to like this† pauses. â€Å"Bo is looking for me too,† he said. â€Å"When he finds me, he will be careful to destroy me. Last time was theatrics. This time he will take no chances.† Well, that was the most cheering news I’d heard all week. Even better than ghastly revelations about the possible truth of my genetic composition. No one really understands genetics any more than anyone really understands world economics, and what I’d been guessing might not be true. I could just worry about it for the rest of my life. If I was going to have a rest of my life. As guaranteed bad news, vampires are a much surer bet. Great. Spartan. Let’s have a party. â€Å"Oh,† I said carefully. I looked into what was probably a short, bleak future, and realized that one of the reasons I’d been glad to see that dark shape in the chair was that with him here, for the first time since I’d come home after those nights at the lake I’d felt maybe†¦not totally clueless and overwhelmed. Yes, he’d been the one shackled to the ballroom wall with me, but they’d been afraid of him. Twelve against one, and him chained to the wall, and they were afraid. The fact that they’d caught him could have been some kind of trick. It happened. Presumably among vampires too. And now he was saying that he was out of his depth too. That it was hopeless. I wanted some nice human equivocation and denial. No, no, it’ll be all right! The table knife was an ugly accident! And by the way you’re not going to morph into an axe murderer! Rescuing the odd vampire from destruction had already fulfilled my bad-gene quota of antisocial behavior. Please. â€Å"Why does he hate you so much?† I said. The silence went on for a while, but I could wait. What else was there to do? Walk outside and shout, â€Å"Here I am!†? I might be due for a short, squalid future, but as a basic principle I was going to hold on to what there was of it. He hadn’t refused to answer yet. â€Å"It’s a long story,† he said at last. â€Å"We are nearly the same age. There are different ways of being what we are. Mine is one way. His is another. Mine, it turns out, has certain advantages. If others perhaps thought the implications through, some things might be different. Bo does not wish anyone to think those implications through. Destroying me is a way to erase the evidence. Plus that he does not care for me to have advantages no longer available to him.† This was interesting, and under other circumstances would have made me curious. Constantine couldn’t be very old – by vampire standards – only young vampires can go out in strong moonlight, like tonight. Middle-aged ones can go out when the moon is young or old enough. Later middle-aged ones can only go outdoors when there is no moon. Really old ones can’t be outdoors under the open sky at all, with any possibility of the dimmest reflected sunlight touching them. That was one of the reasons older ones began running gangs. If they survived to be old they’d also developed other powers. â€Å"He has another urgent reason, now. If he does not destroy me, he will lose control of his gang. Bo likes ruling. It is also necessary to him that he rule – to do with those advantages I possess and he does not. And while as the leader of his gang he is much more powerful than I am, alone, I am the stronger.† â€Å"And you don’t run a gang,† I said. â€Å"No.† I thought of saying, So, what now, do we hold hands and jump? How long a fall can a vampire walk away from? How high do we have to climb first? A mere almost-human pretty reliably goes splat after about four stories, I think. I was beginning to feel sorry that he’d come. No. I’d rather jump out a window and get it over with fast than fall into Bo’s clutches again. I was merely resisting the idea that jumping was my best choice. â€Å"I have thought of it a good deal, these last weeks,† he was saying, â€Å"for I knew what happened at the lake would not be the end. Not with Bo. I also know that singly you and I have no chance.† I do wish you’d stop saying that, I thought. â€Å"But together,† he continued, â€Å"we may have a chance. It is not a good chance, but it is a chance. I do not like it. You cannot like it. I do not understand what it is that you do, and have done. I am not sure we will be able to work together, even if we attempt it. Even if we are each other’s only chance.† He was sitting in the darkness beyond the moonlight, and I could not see his face. I could – a little – see movement as he spoke; vampires also speak by moving their mouths. But this conversation was a little too like talking to a figment of your own imagination. Your darkest, spookiest, most bottom-of-your-unconscious-where-the-monsters-lurk imagination. Even the shadow in the chair was half-imaginary. No it wasn’t. There’s really no mistaking the presence of a vampire in the room. â€Å"Will you help me?† he said. It is very peculiar being asked a life-or-death question in a tone of voice that has no tone in it. Emotionally speaking the response feels like it ought to be something like passing the salt or closing the door. You read "Sunshine Chapter 11" in category "Essay examples" â€Å"Oh,† I said intelligently. â€Å"Ah – er. Well. Yes. Certainly. Since you put it so persuasively.† There was a pause, and then there was a brief noise that, mercifully also briefly, unhinged my spine. He had laughed. â€Å"Forgive my persuasiveness,† he said. â€Å"I would spare you if I could. I do not wish this any more than you do.† â€Å"No,† I said thoughtfully. â€Å"I don’t suppose you do.† If I’d been honest I suppose what I’d really wanted him to do was say, â€Å"Oh don’t worry about it. This is vampire business and I’ll take care of it.† Dream on. â€Å"So,† I said. I didn’t want to know, but I guessed I should make an effort. â€Å"What do we do now?† â€Å"We start,† he said, and paused. I recognized this as the middle of an unfinished sentence, and not one of his cryptic pronouncements, and waited. Then there was a funny breathing noise that I translated provisionally as a sigh. Vampires don’t breathe right, why should they sigh right? But maybe it means vampires can feel frustration. Noted. â€Å"We start by my trying to discover what assistance I can give you.† Somehow this didn’t sound like the usual movie-adventure sort of â€Å"I’ll keep you covered while you reload† assistance. â€Å"What do you mean?† â€Å"We must face Bo at night. Your abilities would not get us past the guards that protect his days.† I didn’t even consider asking what those guards might be. â€Å"Humans are at great disadvantage at night. I think I may be able to grant you certain dispensations.† Dispensations. I liked that. Vampire as fairy godmother. Or godfather. Pity he couldn’t dispense me from getting killed. â€Å"You mean like being able to see in the dark or something.† â€Å"Yes. I mean exactly that.† â€Å"Oh.† If I could see in the dark I would never again have to trip over the threshold of the bathroom door on the way to have a pee at midnight. If I lived long enough to need to. â€Å"I will have to touch you,† he said. Okay, I told myself. He’s not going to forget himself and eat me because he comes a few feet closer. I thought of the second night in the ballroom: Sit a little distance from the corner – yes, nearer me. Remember that three feet more or less makes no difference to me: you might as well. And he’d carried me something like forty-five miles. And only about the first forty-two of them had been in daylight. And somehow pointing out that I now was in bed and wearing nothing but a nightgown and would like to get up and put some clothes on first, please, was worse than not mentioning my inappropriate-for-receiving-visitors state of undress. So I didn’t mention it. â€Å"Okay,† I said. That fluid, inhuman motion again, as he stood up and stepped toward me. I’d forgotten that too – forgotten how strange it is. How ominous. Too fluid for anything human. For anything alive. He sat down near me on the bed. The bed dipped, as if from ordinary human weight. I pulled my feet up and turned toward him, but I did it carelessly, more conscious of him than of anything else – which is to say, more carelessly than I had learned to move over the last two months, carelessly so that the gash on my breast didn’t just seep a little, but cracked open along its full length, as if it were being cut into me for the first time. I couldn’t help it: it hurt: I gave a little gasp. And he hissed. It was a terrifying noise, and I had slammed myself back into the pillows and headboard before I had a chance to think anything at all, to think that I couldn’t get away from him even if I wanted to, to think that he had declared us allies. To think that there might be any other reason for a sound like that one but that he was a vampire and I was alive and streaming with fresh blood. â€Å"Stop,† he said in what passed for his normal voice. â€Å"I offer you no harm. Tell me about the blood on your breast.† He didn’t linger on the word â€Å"blood.† I muttered, â€Å"It won’t heal. It’s been like this for two months.† He wasn’t as good at waiting as I was. â€Å"Go on,† he said immediately. I’d stopped shrugging in the last two months too: you can’t shrug without pulling at the skin below your collarbones. â€Å"I don’t know. It doesn’t heal. It seems to close over and then splits again. The doctor put stitches in it a couple of times, gave me stuff to put on it. Nothing works. It just splits open again. It’s a nuisance but I have been kind of learning to live with it. Like I had a choice. This is – er – worse than usual. Sorry. It’s only a shallow gash. You may – er – remember.† â€Å"I remember,† he said. â€Å"Show me.† I managed not to say, What? It took me a minute to gather my dignity as well as my courage, and my hands were shaking a little when I raised them to unbutton the top two buttons of my nightgown, and peel the edges back so he could see the bony space below my collarbones and above the swell of my bosom, where the blood now ran down in a thin ragged curtain from the wicked curved mouth of the long ugly slash. I barely flinched when he reached out a hand and touched the blood with his finger and†¦tasted it. Then I closed my eyes. â€Å"I offer you no harm,† he said again, gently. â€Å"Sunshine. Open your eyes.† I opened them. â€Å"The wound is poisoned,† he said. â€Å"It weakens you. It is very dangerous.† â€Å"It was for you,† I said, dreamily. I felt like one of those oracle priestesses out of some old myth: seized by some spirit not her own, a spirit that then speaks from her mouth. â€Å"They wanted to poison you.† â€Å"Yes,† he said. I thought, I have been so tired, these last two months. I have got used to that too. I have told myself it is just part of – having had what happened, happen. You do not get over something like that quickly. I had told myself that was all it was. I had almost believed it. I had believed it. The cut didn’t heal because it didn’t heal. Poisoned. Weakening me. Killing me is what he meant. Note that vampires can also be tactful. All those hours in the sunlight, baking the thing, the hostile presence on my body. I’d known it was hostile, although I hadn’t admitted it. I hadn’t taken the next step of thinking â€Å"poisoned.† Sunlight was my element; and so I turned to sunlight. And sunlight was the only thing that did any good, and it didn’t do enough. Because the wound was poisoned. That was out of some story where there would be an oracle priestess somewhere: the poisoned wound that did not heal. I’d already been wondering how I was going to get through the winter, when I couldn’t lie outdoors and bake some hours every week. Been learning not to think about wondering how I was going to get through the winter. He was silent, waiting for me to finish thinking. I looked at him: glint of green eyes in the moonlight. Don’t look in their eyes, I thought. Tiredly. This would have been a nasty shock to him too, of course. Finding out his ally is a goner. I was too tired to look at him. I was too tired for almost anything. Sometimes it is better not to know. Sometimes when you do know you just fold up. â€Å"Sunshine. I know a little about poisons. This is not something your human doctors can distill an antidote for.† This was even better than his repeating that neither of us had any chance against Bo. By dying I was going to ruin his chances too. It’s funny: I was actually sorry about this. Maybe I was a little delirious. Maybe too much had been happening lately. Maybe I was just very, very short of sleep. â€Å"There is something that can be done. Can be tried.† Pause. â€Å"It is not easy.† Oh, big surprise. Something wasn’t going to be easy. I tried to rouse myself, to react. I failed. â€Å"But can you trust me?† More happy news. Not just something to be done, but a vampire something. Which doubtless meant it would have more blood in it. I don’t like blood. I mean, I like it fine, inside, circulating, carrying oxygen and calories to all your stay-at-home cells, but slimy seeping pink hamburger gives me the whim-whams. Can you trust me, he said. Not will you. Can you. Good question. I thought about it. It will not be easy. Yes, okay, that was a given. I didn’t have to think about that. Can I trust him? What have I got to lose? What if his something is something I can’t bear? There are all sorts of things I can’t bear. I’m not brave to begin with, I’m very, very tired, I’m spongy with post-traumatic what have you, and I very nearly can’t bear what I did last night with a table knife. And I may be a homicidal maniac. â€Å"Yes,† I said. â€Å"Yes. I think so.† He didn’t exhale a long breath, as a human might have done, but he went motionless instead. It was a different kind of motionlessness than not moving. Having said yes I felt better. Less tired. Evidently still delirious, however, because I bent toward him, touched the back of his hand. â€Å"Okay?† I said. A little silence. â€Å"Okay,† he said. I had the sudden irreverent notion that he’d never said â€Å"okay† before. Spend time with humans and have all kinds of unusual experiences. Laughter. Slang. â€Å"It will not be tomorrow night,† he said. â€Å"Perhaps the night after.† â€Å"Okay,† I said. â€Å"See you.† â€Å"Sleep well,† he said. â€Å"Oh, sure, absolutely,† I said, trying for irony, but he was already gone. I left the window full open. I wanted as much of the fresh night air in the room with me as possible. There was a tiny chiming from one of the window charms. It was a curiously serene and hopeful noise. I must have looked pretty rough that morning too. It occurred to me that everybody at the coffeehouse was treating me like an invalid while trying to pretend they weren’t treating me like an invalid. I wanted to tell them that they were right, I was an invalid, that mark on my breast that only Mel knew was still there was poisoned, and I was dying. I didn’t say any of this. I said I was still short of sleep. Paulie turned up an hour before time that morning saying he didn’t have anything better to do, but I was pretty sure Mom had called him and asked if he could come in early. I think Mom had figured out that the charms she was giving me were going somewhere like into the Wreck’s glove compartment, so she had begun stashing them around the bakery where maybe I wouldn’t find them but they could still do me some good. Since my unwelcome speculations about dark family secrets the other night in Jesse’s office I had begun to wonder what all Mom’s charms were for, exactly. She’s always been something of a charm freak; I’d put it down to eight years in my dad’s world. I found two new ones that morning: a little curled-up animal of some sort with its paws over its eyes and a red bead where its navel should have been, and a shiny white disc that rainbows ran across if you held it up against the light. I left them where I found them. Maybe I should let them try to defend against whatever they could. I had some fellow-feeling for the small curled-up creature with its hands over its face, even if the red alien parasite was lower down on it than it was on me. Charms are often noisy, which is another reason I don’t like them much, but you aren’t going to hear extraneous buzzing and burbling above the general din at Charlie’s. Especially on shifts when I had to spend some time in the company of a genially humming apprentice. Mel was working that afternoon but Aimil had the day off from the library. She wandered back into the bakery with a cup of coffee toward the end of my stint, said she’d just found out about an old-books-and-junk sale in Redtree, which was one of the little towns between us and the next big city to the south, she was going to go, and did I want to come along? I should probably have gone home and taken a nap, but I didn’t want to. So I said yes. A nice little outing for the doomed. Furthermore Aimil talked about library politics the whole way there and didn’t once mention nocturnal neighborhood excitements. So by the time we arrived at the village square in Redtree I was in the mood. Ordinarily I love this kind of thing without any effort. Someone who does coffeehouse baking for a living doesn’t have huge amounts of disposable income, but the point about books-and-junk sales is that you never know what you may find for hilariously cheap. There are fewer people since the Wars than there had been before, and less money (don’t ask me how this works: you’d think if there were fewer people there would be more money to go around), so there is a lot less motive for dealers to discover specialist markets for old, beat-up, weird, or obscure-looking and possibly Other-related stuff. Plus a lot of people don’t want to think about old, beat-up, weird, obscure-looking, and possibly Other-related stuff because it reminds them of the Wars, or what life had been like before the Wars, i.e., better. The result is that a lot of very interesting nonjunk gets heaved into the nearest box for the next garage sale. Furthermore, almost nobody wants to read the gormless old fiction about the Others which is my fave. I picked up a copy of Sordid-Enchantments on the title alone, and the fourth, and most icky and rare, volume of the Dark Blood series, which I was no longer sure I wanted to read – the heroine has a choice to die horribly or become a vampire horribly, and she chooses to die. If I’d realized how gross it was going to get after the first volume I wouldn’t have bothered – but I’m a completist, I had the first three, and hey. I was feeling pretty good. In spite of last night. Or in an even funnier way, because of it. It was like I had two days out of time. Everything was on hold until†¦either the vampire-something worked, or it didn’t. Jesse and Theo had been at a table under the awning when Aimil and I left Charlie’s, and I’d nodded and kept going. I hoped nothing had come up they wanted to talk to me about. Nothing was allowed to come up for the next two days. I was on vacation in my own mind, cinnamon rolls at four a.m. or not. It must have been Paulie’s influence, but I was positively humming a tune – an old folk song about keeping a vampire talking till sunrise: not one of your brighter vampires – while I burrowed through a big sagging cardboard box of junk. Chipped china teacups. Dented tin trays. Small splintery wooden boxes with lids that no longer closed. A bottle opener shaped like a dragon with an extremely undershot lower jaw and pink glass eyes. Pink. The Dragon Anti-Defamation Society should hear about this. At the bottom, when I touched it, it fizzled right through me, like I’d put my arm in a cappuccino machine. I knew it had to be some kind of ward – nonwarding charms are kind of stickier – but a live ward shouldn’t be in the bottom of a box of cheap junk at a garage sale. Maybe it had fallen out of one of the splintery boxes. I hesitated, then picked it up to get a better look. Gingerly. It had now got my attention, so presumably it wouldn’t feel the need to scramble my arm like an egg again. I didn’t recognize the style or the design. It was an oval, not quite the length of the palm of my hand, with a slightly raised edge, the whole of it thick and heavy, like an old coin, before the mints got mean and started stamping out pennies that sometimes bent if you dropped them edgewise on a hard floor. It was silver, I thought, or plate; it was so tarnished I couldn’t make out clearly what was on it, except that something was. Three somethings: one each on top, middle, and bottom, rather like an old Egyptian glyph. The only thing I could say for sure was that they weren’t any of the standard Other-preventive sigils I knew of, nor the all-purpose circle-star-and-cross one. The most interesting thing was that it was live. Very live. Wards aren’t necessarily as master-specific as most charms, and if they aren’t actively in use they can molder quietly for a long time and still be capable of being wakened and doing some warding; but even one that’s been tuned to you specifically shouldn’t leap avidly out at you and wag its tail like a dog wanting to go for a walk. I could have put it back. I could have taken it to someone in charge and said â€Å"You’ve made a mistake. This one still works.† But I didn’t. It seemed to like lying there in my hand. Don’t be ridiculous, I thought. It’s not responding to me personally. As a soldier in the dented-tin-tray army they shouldn’t be expecting real money for it, but that could only be because they hadn’t noticed it was live. It was still worth a try. I took the two books and the tarnished ward to the suspicious-looking character at the card table with the rusty money box, who snatched them out of my hands as if he knew I was trying something on. But he was so preoccupied with whether or not he should sell me Altar of Darkness (in which it takes the heroine four hundred pages to die), which was certainly worth more than the seventeen blinks for two, which is what the sign on the drooping book table said, that he barely registered my little glyph. I’d done piously outraged innocence when he started haranguing me about Altar and a few of his other customers scowled at him and muttered about fairness. I won that round. So when he looked at the glyph and said â€Å"fifty blinks† I sniffed so he would know that I knew he was a brigan d and a bandit, and let it pass. He knew more about books. Even a dead ward made out of silver plate was worth more. A blink is a dollar, and has been since after the Wars, when our economy went to pieces, and the average paycheck disappeared in the blink of an eye. What was more interesting was that he’d touched the glyph and hadn’t said â€Å"Wow! That was like putting my hand in a cappuccino machine!† Aimil had been watching my performance with a straight face. â€Å"Well done,† she said, when we got back to the car. â€Å"Dark Blood Four as two for seventeen blinks! Zora will be mad with jealousy. Now what is that little thing?† I was balancing my glyph on the top of the books, and I watched as she picked it up. That Mr. Rusty Money Box hadn’t registered anything was one thing; if Aimil didn’t register either it was something else. She didn’t say anything about a feeling like having her funny bone hit with a hammer. â€Å"Hmm. It’s quite – appealing, isn’t it? Even all blackened like this.† â€Å"Appealing†? Maybe it had decided that making people’s hair stand on end wasn’t such a good way of making friends and influencing people. â€Å"Can you figure out any of what’s on it?† She frowned, turning it this way and that in the light. â€Å"No clue. Maybe after you get it polished.† Dessert shift that night was notable only for the number of people who wanted cherry tarts. They were catching on. Rats. I didn’t really like little electrical gadgets – most of the other so-called home bakeries in town used kneading machines, for example, which I thought beneath contempt – but there was no way I was going to be making cherry tarts without one. I’d already said I would only make individual tarts and customers had to order them with the main course to give me enough lead time. And they were still catching on. I didn’t want cherry tarts to turn into another Death of Marat. When I was first installed in my new bakery and messing around with the heady implications of Charlie’s having built it for me, I’d been having fun with puddings that look like one thing and you stick a fork in them and they become something else. A Gothic sensibility in the bakery is not necessarily a good thing. I’d made this light fluffy-look ing number in a white oval dish with high sides and presented the first one with a flourish to a group of regulars who had volunteered to be experimented on. Aimil was the one with the knife, and she stuck it in and the raspberry-and-black-currant filling had exploded down the side and over the edge of the dish onto the counter. It was, I admit, a trifle dramatic. â€Å"Gods, Sunshine, what is this, the Death of Marat?† she said. Aimil reads too much. Everybody at Charlie’s that night wanted a taste, and the Death of Marat, the first of Sunshine’s soon-to-be-notorious, implausibly named epic creations, was born, although I think most of our clientele thought Marat was some kind of master vampire. (Aimil is good at names. She’s responsible for Tweedle Dumplings and Glutton’s Grail and Buttermost Limit too.) The problem is that for months after I was getting constant requests for the damn thing, and light, fluffy puddings with heavy fillings are a br ute to make. Our long-time regulars still ask for it occasionally, but I’m older and meaner now and say â€Å"no† better. I will make it if I like you enough. Maybe. Well, the cherry season doesn’t last long around here; I’d be back to apple pie before Billy’d had time to miss doing the peeling. (Unless I found some other source of cheap child labor I might have to get an electric peeler in another year.) It was true that Charlie’s did almost everything from scratch and that anything that one of us wasn’t good at didn’t get done at all, but it was also true that our loyal customers were compelled to be biddable. If I decided I didn’t feel like doing cherry tarts outside of fresh cherry season they could like it or eat at Fast Burgers ‘R’ Us. When I got home I fished last night’s sheets and nightgown out of the tub where they’d been soaking the bloodstains out (just like the Death of Marat without Marat), hauled them downstairs, and stuffed them in the washing machine. If Yolande had noticed the amount of laundry I’d been doing in the last two months she never said anything. How to cite Sunshine Chapter 11, Essay examples

Jane Eyre The Victorian Feminist free essay sample

This paper provides a thorough literary analysis of the feminist themes in Charlotte Brontes Jane Eyre. This paper analyzes Charlotte Brontes novel Jane Eyre from a feminist aspect, illustrating the reflection of Victorian society in the literature of the time. The author includes a detailed look at female independence, strength and determination in the main character. The story of Jane Eyre is something of a fairy tale but for the outward appearance. The storys truth and harsh beauty and the devastation that its characters face set it apart from the typical princess story. The complexity of the story line and the characterization are a phenomenal development of the time. Raised during the repressed Victorian period in Britain , Charlotte Bronte focused most of her energy on her education and her literary career. Being a woman, she was scarcely able to voice her passions and strong opinions except through her writing, Bronte expresses a great deal of her own frustrations and concerns in her works. We will write a custom essay sample on Jane Eyre: The Victorian Feminist or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page Jane Eyre is one such novel that incorporates many themes. While the main character faces issues of class distinction, a search for her identity and place in life, and a struggle between spirituality and the intellect, (which are all Victorian literary focuses) the most striking theme in the story is womens fight for equality. Janes character illustrates the emergence of feminism during the Victorian period through her interactions with the other characters, her choices, and her inner thoughts.