The problem with graduating from medical school is that when my stomach hurts and I don’t vomit or poop my brains out, I think: I have abdominal fullness.
When I think “abdominal fullness,” I think cancer.
I start to list off the rest of my recent “symptoms,” which all lead to cancer even though I don’t have cancer.
However, I do have a stomach ache.
I also have been taking my Internets a little too seriously.
The last time I read a book was when I felt sick enough to not leave my bed for 2 days. That’s a stupid reason to read a book. Okay, it’s a fine reason, but all the reasons in between reading those novels are stupid.
I’ve put myself on a writing schedule that is doable but not reasonable. And then I look for more work. Because I’m insane.
I’m not even sure where I’m going with this except that no matter how much I fight January resolutions, I find myself navel gazing.
I keep eying my life to decide what I like and don’t like, what I can change and what I need to accept as is.
For most of January, I complain that they can’t be reversed, but I eventually decide to change what I can and leave the rest all. Probably.
I don’t like being tired, dirty dishes, being out of shape, not seeing my friends, second guessing my ideas, breaking my eyes rolling them at other people’s ideas. But mostly I don’t like that everything has to go right to be able fit my plans in 24 hours. Kids get sick. Cars break down. (sometimes twice in one week.) Phones ring. Posts don’t go viral. (that’s a daily plan that only happened once.) Annual checkups appear on the calendar and kids feet grow and we eat all the food in our refrigerator 2 days before grocery night. BUT I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR ANYTHING BUT MY TO DO LIST.
I’m not complaining about my life. I’m complaining about my plans not including my life.
I want to not just love the life I have but be in the middle of it. And then I want an email outlining exactly what to do to get there.
All I know is the cure is change and finishing this rambling post at 11:15 p.m. is a place I could start.
Or I could go back to worrying about cancer.