Perfect man

I have met the perfect man today.

Beautiful. Intelligent. Funny.
We connected over volatile gasses and mathematics.

He explained difficult concepts.
I felt intellectually challenged, cared for and empowered.

He was kind and supportive.
The most perfect bubble butt I have ever seen on a man. I just wanted to sink my teeth into it.


He's also my consultant, married with a dog and maybe kids.

"Isn't ironic," sings Alanis, "It's meeting the man of my dreams, and then meeting his beautiful wife."

And the man I'm 'seeing' is comforting another woman tonight.
As a woman I know she wants him back and from eavesdropping I know I am to her the 'Ugly Girl' of the Fiona Apple song of the same name.
He know how to pick them though. She's as depressed, clingy and needy as I am, maybe even worse.
He doesn't know that about me, yet.
She's beautiful. Does it matter that she's Brazilian?

The exams in in 9 days.
Im distracted not only by the opposite sex, but anaesthetics.
I could love it. I could just love this. If I get smart and witty, this might be something amazing.

Confused

'Let's go on holiday...How does Morocco sound?' 

  'I'd love to. Yeah, it'll be great...Let's go in September?' 

'I was thinking in the new year....maybe February?'

- Silence -
- Slow turn of head, mastication stopped. Stare -

'What, you don't plan that far?...Or you're going somewhere?' 

- Confusion, hope, bewilderment, frustration and wonder -

  'I ain't going nowhere' 

- shrugs -

  'It's my birthday in February, you know. 26th.'


*yeah, i know, you can't make this shit up. That's when we talk. A lot of the time we don't. I have tortured internal monologues where I say my piece is a sensible structured way, clearly knowing and stating what i want and how i'd like things to go. Then I just look at him, looking out the window wishing i could still read minds. He catches me looking and I smile*

Panic cord

I have a career defining exam in 14 days.
I'm not passing the mock exam papers.

Im getting too excited to see the boy tonight. I miss him a little.
Im looking for distractions from the exams.

I need to pass this exam. I do not need the distraction
I have to pass. God help me, I have to.


I heard this song playing in the background this morning.
It's a little disconcerting to go, 'oh no, im not that person they're singing about, am i?'
There is much to say about delusions of reference.

I just realised that Colin Meloy (of Decemberist fame) and Carson Ellis (illustrator of most Decemberist albums) are married to each other!

So cute.

Entering manic phase after all the depressive weeks. Distractable and panicky.

Exam in 2 weeks.

Panic.
panic panic.

Im giving myself 48 hours of fun with the boy this weekend. I told him im jumping his bones and going. I've let all the emotions stew for a bit and I think this whole arrangement can work. As long as i keep my feelings in check and know that he will never feel about me that way.

Im trying to think of an analogy but I cant.

I can tell you that quinidine is a typre Ia anti-arrhythmic that blocks conduction and increases the effective refractory period.

pray for me. send good vibes my way.
wish me luck

Im sorry

I find it difficult to control my emotions and im sorry you're getting the short stick.
Im sorry I get irksome- I find it hard not to be possessive. Good God it's so hard not to think of you as mine, all mine. Or at least wanting to think so.

You dont adore me. You do not worship the ground I walk upon.

You dont lie to me, you treat me decently and with respect. You would not hurt me purposefully.

I now understand these women who stay with men they cannot have at the peril of heartbreak. It's so hard not to fall. The slope is greased, the fall so gentle, bottomless. I am becoming one of them.

I would not resent this fall so much if it wasn't for the fact he does not and will not think of me that way. I am for him a project- I have given up that agenda weeks ago, but for him I am an unfinished project on his list; once I am done and ready I am to be released into the world to meet wonderful men that are out there.

He is a friend. He is someone I trust. He drives me crazy both a good way and a bad way. I hate seeing him hurt and I want to see him happy.

He is a friend and I care about him.

Lonely

There's solitude, being comfortable and content being alone. Enjoying one's own company.

There's loneliness, this feeling I now get daily; an empty hollow feeling that I try and fill by looking up twitter, facebook and blogs. This discomfiture with being alone with my thoughts.

My thoughts that in the last couple of months is repetitive- thoughts of inadequacy, fear of the future, fear of failure.

I have finally spoken to a healthcare professional regarding my melancholy- i suspect it is now full blown depression and anxiety. Down to a point where it's affecting who I am.

I'm darkly humourous; im not depressive.

Im cheerful with a realist, cruel streak; not this practical robot.

I have lost my joie de vivre- I used to relish my aimless wandering, all my life experience; now im a frightened rabbit with the confidence of a mole rat (not the Kim Possible one- he's a confident, amazing naked mole rat).

I've stopped singing and dancing. I don't want to pick fights. 

I have homework. There's online CBT, workbooks to do. There's the Chimp Paradox to read.
I need to self refer to see a psychologist, which will take a couple of weeks.

It's tough to admit that I need the professional help. But life is becoming more challenging and I have never been more unsupported in my life. I dont blame anyone for this- it's the unfortunate sequelae of being sad; i hide away and lose touch.

And then there is doctoring, the man who doesn't want me that way and my desire to live a full and exciting life.

I will fight for my life. I only have one and it's worth fighting for. I will work hard to do well, get happy and get what I want. I've been lucky and blessed, I still am, just gotta fight for it a little.

The original is better because Thom Yorke is a hot ginger

My phone seem to pick out the most inappropriate songs to play at his.

I was packing and Radiohead's Creep started playing.
He walks in and tell me its one of his favourite- there was a point in his life where the song meant a lot to him. He plays his preferred version by some lady with a high pitched happy voice singing in perfect harmonies.

I tell him,"The original is better because Thom Yorke is a hot ginger; and also the lady sounds too happy. The singer has to be tortured". We went through depressing songs of the nineties: I pretty much name the whole back catalog of Radiohead; namely Fake Plastic Trees and Karma Police. Vertical Horizon came to mind but for the life of me I couldn't recall the name then. He chose Everybody Hurts.



The last time it did this my phone decided to play Unforgettable by Nat King Cole as we were having a goodbye make out session. That was awkward and intense.

At some point Blur's No Distance Left to Run will feature on here (shout out to Shazzers, who at 16 picked out the best song for every ending). When it happens it will hurt. There will be tears, there might be blood. I hope not too soon.

I am see-through, soap sliver you’re so thin

Now dissolve me, two tabs on your tongue
A herd of shepherds to herd the sheep, sleep now my only one
Broken sweethearts who sleep apart
Both still pine for the other’s side spine, spoon as sleep starts
And pulse to pulse, now shush
She makes the sound the sea makes to calm me down




I am see-through, soap sliver you’re so thin
As I begin rubbing lathers up your state worsens on my skin
And gold, fatless finger to lip, one two three four hush
And pulse to pulse, now shush
She makes the sound the sea makes to calm me down
She makes the sound the sea makes, I’m tired now
She makes the sound the sea makes, knee-deep in the north sea

Selamat Hari Raya

My eighth Raya away from home.

I miss the melee, the insanity, the love.
I miss the baju baru, the eating excessively, running after errant cousins and rolled up sleeves to dish out more rendang. And basuh pinggan because we've run out of clean plates/glasses/forks.
"makan dengan tangan jer!"

"It's when you have deodorant and a spare pair of tights there...."

"... you know you're kinda established" -Richard from work (Qualifications: married man and all round nice guy)

What does it mean if I have a pair of pyjamas, make up remover and a toothbrush there... and planning to move in a dressing gown?
Plus there's all those clothes I left when i repacked at his house- all shoved under his bed (reminds me to bring a large spare bag to London this weekend).

3 weeks is too long.
I wonder if he misses me.

I don't dare ask.

You're north of heaven, maybe somewhere west of hell.

I have had a difficult year

I know I spoke of fresh starts last August, but it seems that this year was worse than the last. Let's analyze the last year and make some comparisons.

Career 
Things have not progressed as much as I'd like it to. My F2 year (last year) was a struggle of too many hats, too little time; this training year one (of 3) has basically been a dud on the CV. I have achieved very little professionally except to chalk up 3 formal complaints and one serious incident investigation (yeah, and i cant even say nobody died). That's two years essentially wasted.

What went wrong: I got depressed and stressed. I lost focus of who I was and what I was doing. I worked hard but didn't work smart. I now realised that the slog is not going to cut it anymore. I have to learn how to balance a personal life and a work one, because one works to live; and not the other way around. I failed to plan. Not having a professional calendar and not spending time talking shop, learning about things i could do to boost my career prospects. I need to learn to love my job again,  to love learning and to find the joy of doing what I do, because it is special. Being a doctor is special and I need to remember that.

Fixing it: Passing in September, passing in January, Doing the Ultrasound course, Finishing the ED audit and doing a anesthetic one. More training days, doing the simulation course. Find a masters.
Very very important: find a MENTOR. Someone to guide me, to aspire to and to talk shop to.

Financially
I have been living paycheck to paycheck for the last year. I do not have the advised 6 months wages saved. I cannot afford any major disasters or a car.

What went wrong: I spent like there was no tomorrow. Didn't think and didn't budget. Was extravagant with silly things. I was lazy and didn't think about the value of things. Shopping became therapy for the depression and stress. I will be going onto basic pay (a 500 quid paycut) for the next 3 months.

Fixing it: Budget. A weekly budget, with an attempt at 20% wages into savings. Buy a new bike (that's at least 60 quid a month savings, plus free exercise). Plan train tickets in advance. Be frugal with day to day meals. Making sure I spend money where it matters: good food with friends, experiences and travel.

I will be your accident if you will be my ambulance

And I will be your screech and crash if you will be my crutch and cast
And I will be your one more time if you will be my one last chance

Oh sweet tree, fall with me
Fall fast, fall free, fall with me

-Ambulance; TV on the Radio

*this should be sung in A&E, perhaps during a trauma call....if only life was more like Scrubs

No. 3

Madeline's been stolen.
Bike No. 3.
Front door was wedged open and as I was rushing to work this morning she wasn't where I left her. She wasn't anywhere in the building, neither was 2 other bikes.

Her name was Madeline before I even met her.

There goes my ride to work.

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'You're number 5'
'Im number 5? Well's that's always been my lucky number, 5...and 13.'

Things I want at my wedding

A groom
-I need to find one. I just realised that this one probably isnt it.

Cute children
 -possibly my brother's, or cousins's or worse come to worst mine, but momma would be disappointed

Family and friends
-I have to keep the two separate; it'll only be a disaster if the family finds out what i really get up to 

Mariachi band. Or the Gypsy Kings.
 -my grandmother, bless her heart will not understand. The second cousins will sit there and woe with her while i dance to Bem, Bem Maria.

Open bar
-it'll be our secret dad!

Scented flowers

TTA cakes, candy and lavender pouchettes.

 *to be fair, all i really need is a groom, loved ones and a mariachi band. Im flexible like that.

So drown me if you can, or we can just have conversation