I justrealized that it’s October–officially Autumn (“Tumnus!”).
Not so much a surprise to most people–who have seasons and aren’t in residency working 80+hours a week–but to me (who obviously fulfills these criteria) I find myself shaking my head at the speed with which my life is moving.
I can only imagine what I must look like, eyes averted from other passers-by, long white coat flowing in the semi-sweet Miami breeze, the city sounds of honking horns and screeches of the above road tram that for unknown reasons only services 1/10 of Miami, brown corduroy purse on my left shoulder, walking fiercely towards the VA.
On a mission.
To save lives? To sustain the precarious balance between psychotic identity and normalcy? To enable the slow, rusted wheels of the medical machine to run? To learn?