If it's not one thing, it's another, right? Just as I finished putting the last of my clothing into my flooded-now-bleached closet, I broke my glasses. Not in a bad way, mind you, just that I bent the metal tie holding the ear piece to the eye piece and in the process popped the lens out. (Neat in a "how things work" kind of way.) Except I don't have time for this. (And thanks, Mom, for the contact lenses; apparently they're needed.)
What is it about school that makes me so busy? Is it living alone? Or is my natural state here unpleasant so much so that I feel perpetually overwhelmed? Whereas on Friday the last vestiges of vacation would have me driving at the speed limit, the pressure of tomorrow had me speeding and cutting off people. Except I don't want to be that person. And I don't have to be that person. Often we discuss how medicine dehumanizes the practitioner. I disagree. I do not care less, it's just that my capacity for snapping is so much more.
Lists can be tyranical - after all, they dictate your life. But I am going to try to love them. Putting order to paper can be soothing. Systems can be affirming. How I smile at the hooks above my bedroom door. Seeing within them a purpose I hadn't seen before, I've hung tomorrow's outfit in anticipation. There are facts to learn, organize, and catalog. Did you know the importance of keeping your arms at 90 degrees at all times when you scrub-in, or that 3x5 cards are the perfect size to fit in a scrub pocket? Wish me luck. (And sleep.)
1 comment:
That was lyrical.
What's the nephew name????
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