I stopped posting here for a little while, because shit got real. I thought I had things to complain about before, turned out that I didn't. It was as if the universe said to me, "go on - I'll give you something to really cry about"
So now both Scott and I are jobless as of 31st January 2012. It looks like we're going to have to leave this city, because there are no jobs for him here. It makes me nervous, anxious. I'm trying to find some faith that we'll fall on our feet, somewhere, but I've been working at this hospital for so long, living in this city for so long...
You know what? It's not even that. It's the uncertainty of everything. What is going to happen? Will Scott sue the hospital? If he did, would it work? If not, WTF DO WE DO NOW?!?? I feel like there is a cyclone of uncertainty in my head. And it turns out, that I married my equal in avoidance - Scott just doesn't want to think about it. And I understand, really I do. But I know that my cyclone won't stop until we take some action.
And yet, speaking to my mother today, she seemed to think that I need to stop the cyclone, before doing anything else. Find the eye of the storm, take a deep breath, and let whatever needs to happen, happen.
For the second time this year, I find myself wishing that I wasn't responsible for making decisions. Because people, I got nothin'.
So my attempts at a second all-nighter have stalled at 4.30, which is when I think I crashed last night also. Tonight, however, I really just couldn't sleep. So I decided to tackle head on something that has been stressing me - my study.
Some time ago, during my last existential crisis, I decided to start some (more) postgrad study, this time in philosophy. I did a fair bit of it as an undergrad, and really liked it. I just like thinking. Unfortunately, medicine drained me of all forms of non-medical thought, for many years.
Then this year, my brain just came alive again, and I was *bored*. Even though I work ungodly hours, there was something horribly unsatisfying - unfortunately, medicine is more mindless repetition and pattern-recognition than actual thinking.
So now I'm studying critical metaphysics. I love it. So much. I love how it twists and bends my mind. I love how I can read one philosopher and become completely enamored with their worldview, and then next week read someone else and think "pffft.. I don't know what that last guy was thinking. This new guy rocks!" So maybe I haven't really mastered the "critical" part of the metaphysics, but its still lots of fun.
But for all my love of learning, I still procrastinate, and life has been a bit rough lately - makes it rough to keep up my reading. So tonight, when I couldn't sleep, I started reading some Spinoza. And as much as he is now my new favourite philosopher ( I mean, this guy totally predicted quantum physics. In the 17th century!! That's crazy!) he's also a great tranquiliser, and I'm now all ready to sleep. Two reasons to love Spinoza.
I'm proud of myself for pursuing my passion for philosophy, even when I'm overwhelmed. It makes me feel more myself than anything else I do, and its something I do purely for me. I'm never going to get a better job because I understand substance monism. But I think it reminds me to be more human. And that's gotta be worth it.
So, I have this horrible fear of home invasion. It usually only comes out to play when I'm home alone, at night.
The other day, I had my dad over for dinner. I was telling him how Scott was going to be working nights, and how I had a total plan for when my home was inevitably invaded. (Lock my bedroom door and call police.. Its genius, right?) My dad looks around my apartment, and says, "you're on the second floor. Lock your front door and you'll be fine." BUT THEN, he adds "Unless someone had a grappling hook. They could totally use a grappling hook on your balcony and get in that way!"
Great. Grappling hooks. Hadn't considered them. So glad I get to now.
Last night I stayed up most of the night, although, not in some sort of hypervigilant way, more in a "hooray for interwebz!" way. When Scott got home, I explained how a nice side effect of staying awake all night was that I wasn't afraid.
Scott: Honey, there's really nothing to be afraid of! Do you know how hard those doors are to break through?
Me: But, what if someone came up over the balcony with a grappling hook? Sometimes we don't even *lock* that door!!
Scott: As if you wouldn't hear a grappling hook!
Me: What good is *hearing* the grappling hook going to do me?
Scott: A home invader is gonna be scared off if they think you know they're there.
Me: Not a meth head. A meth head would just stab me!
Scott: Look, if a meth head manages to plan to get a grappling hook, break in and find you, I think you have to give it to him. I mean, that's awesome planning for a meth head.
Me: Thanks sweetie. Thank you for cheering for the meth head.
So its 1.30 in the morning, and I'm attempting to pull an all nighter. Scott is doing night shift tonight and tomorrow, and I figured if I stay up, then I'll want to sleep when he does, rather than being all pouty and or stabby when he understandably wants to sleep. I seriously am that petty. Not proud, just honest..
Tonight is our 2-year-aversary of "hooking up", for want of a more elegant term. Married for roughly 15 months. We got married in vegas, and conveniently lost the incredibly ugly wedding pictures taken there. You have no idea how much bitching about that I've heard from my family. Not the married in vegas thing, I think that was always how it was gonna go down, but the lack of photos. What is this - "screenshot or it didn't happen!?" Anyway, we renewed our vows in hawaii, and had some really nice professional shots taken. Nobody cares. Even a little. I suspect that if I had the original wedding photos people would have the same lukewarm reaction, because seriously, how boring are other peoples wedding photos? Still, perhaps our mothers will be happy.
I have a week off work, which is all kinds of awesome. I seriously needed it though, I was so drained. And maybe a little crazy. Actually, no maybe, I was a little crazy. Fear not though, the tide of crazy seems to have subsided, and I feel like a real human being. This is what annoys me though - why does my job make me *stop* feeling like a real human being? Its fucked up. My job has such freakin responsibility, and it seems mandatory to be a soul-less caricature of yourself. I'm not awfully good at not being myself, which is why I have these occasional melt-downs.
So my goal for the week is to try and be happy as much as I can be, even if its purely by being completely distracted from "real life". And also to be a bit nicer to Scott, who is starting to have this long-suffering look about him. Which is a total role reversal, I assure you. I am the freaking queen of long-suffering!!
It is nice to be back to myself. Reacquaint myself with me. Hi me!
Its 1.30am here, and I've decided to start a blog. Clearly a good time to be making decisions. Blogs seem to have changed over the years, which was to be expected. Things are a lot more public than they were, people use their real names, pictures, all kinds of things.
For now, at least, thats not me. For a couple of reasons. If it matters, its because of my job, where I live, and my natural shyness. I'm a doctor, which makes me a bit uncomfortable about being all stalk-able. I also live in one of those cities where everyone knows everyone, especially in my profession. As for the shyness, well, it is what it is.
Why a blog, and why now? Firstly, because as I said, blogs have changed. No longer just personal diaries, but now appear to also be soap boxes, and and I want me some of that! And as for the timing, I guess its a time of great personal change for me, so it just seemed right.