"Warring Ideals in One Dark Body"

Blessed moment of clarity and not a moment too soon. After a day of furious research, transcript requests, and bellowing like people whose cat has seized a private moment with the Thanksgiving turkey [snicker], I washed off the shame of not having throttled my academic advisor. The familiar anger didn't hold the usual comfort. Instead, I was exasperated with myself. Careworn and smelling half-prepared dinner is enough without adding the edema underneath a picked scab of anger, condescension, and impotence.

I've been wondering where all my calm went. I worked hard on it for a number of years and had a pretty good veneer of pseudo-calm for the most part. Then I moved here, shit went down on several fronts (much of which was due to my own ignorance and/or clumsiness, let's be fair) and I was glad to say, you know what? They say that the time it takes to get enlightened is the same time it would take for a bird with a scarf flying over a mountain six miles high to wear down the mountain with the scarf, ergo, I'm gonna be where I'm at and fuck all that fake-ass, hooey-hooey, self-righteous bullshit. And that's valid. But. Still. I'm aware of a time when I didn't feel so angry about the small things, a time when I'd trained myself to respond more calmly to challenges. I've been wondering where all that calm went. I haven't felt calm in a while. I couldn't remember why I ever would. As I was disrobing for my shower, I got it again.

It takes too much energy, and that energy is better spent problem-solving. That's all. Anger rarely only hurts the person its directed at. It always damages the person harboring the anger, even if the anger is righteous. Waste of food.

What an aching, bloody relief to remember.

In other relieving news, a sweetheart called me today to hear my voice. That's what she said, and I felt charmed. She's got a knack for doing that when I'm ovulating and have been crying all day, and (though I doubt she's charting my weird 41 day cycle) she keeps perfect time and better company. Thank you, Dear One.

Radical Midwife came by today with chai tea and porridge. She's in administrative hell right now, still needing to get immunization forms signed so she can do her externships. She congratulated me for taking some time to be sick. Then she said, "It must be bad...cause you went to work and school on a broken toe for six weeks."

I had forgotten that.

They've called me three times from work today. Oh no, not to see how I was doing but to ask me to do stuff. Yeah.

You know what I think? I think I need to pass my Nationals Registry Exam and see about getting a job here, working for six months or so, and then trying for a job here. And then I think I need to get the fuck out of dodge, even if I'll have to work full-time plus OT just to break even. I'm starting to think it may be worth taking some time off of school to do this (or maybe plodding along as I've been doing--there were plenty of flashcards happening between calls when I did my ride-along). I think that even if I'm getting barked at by a preceptors and patients, I'll feel like it's actually worth something.

The Advice Nurse asks me to give it more more day at home and make sure I don't develop a fever. Even without, they may want a swab for strep if the sore throat doesn't go away soon. Um, and weird--they asked if I wanted a sick note for work. What in the world is going on?

Need a vacation? Work until you get sick. Sick-ation. I'll bring back slides.

But really, I actually had a good week. See, I looked up and realized family (and some other folk) were banging their hearts on this mad bugger's wall. So thank you, pokershaman , wild_irises , pantryslut , black_pearl , and you too imnotandrei (cos I know you were in the background doing something, cos you always are) and ginoushka for calling and distracting me when the sore throat was at it's worst, and rednfiery for not leaving me in sf when I was dizzy, as well as my roommate (who was quite considerate, I must say), classmates (who were like, "Whassup? You need notes?") and Radical Midwife for your pasta, soup, melon, gumbo, tea, cookies, lozenges, chai, porridge, Happy Hippo biscuits, dish duty, cuddling, advice, patience, time, and just being kind to me.

Thank you for helping me to understand what it is to be cared about. Thanks for waiting around until I remembered.
I am not going to cry, dammit.

Family steps up when you're down.

Fine, maybe I will cry. Just a little.
There, now...more Diablo II and Rachel Maddow.

See, really this has never happened before. I blame it on calendars that start on Mondays that I totally forgot to mention this really excellent thing that happened on Sunday. Because only someone who cooks or is really interested in food or has spent a lot of time in Louisiana would know where andouille sausage and mexican red beans would be well received. Getting a gift like that is sort of like having someone you like and respect a lot leave lots of little, moist kisses all over, particularly when the beans were sent away for special for you, and when the bag gets handed to you, all you see is a bag of little kidney-shaped valentines and the hands handing them to you belonging to this amazing and special sort of guy.

It's good, free, legal porn as far as you're concerned when even on the hard days you're reminded that you're still one of the luckiest guys in any demographic cause got you some magic beans and sausage from someone with these hands and this mouth and a brain wired right to each of them. Words barely do justice, but the feeling? I wish I could cork a little into green glass bottles and send one to every living thing.

Wow. ( Read more... )