1. Study for Step 2
2. Reschedule CS to somewhere in August/early Sept
3. Figure out electives
4. Work out schedule for electives
5. Catch up on email
6. Remember: Coffee is not a meal, even if it is a latte
7. Eat. eat. eAt. EaT. Atleast tid.
8. Do not stress out.
9. Write 1000 words/day.
10. Study for Step 2
11. Do not start novel/ebook.
12. PRAY
13. Stay sane
14. Get chocolate!
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Random observations and Writing
So I'm moving... again. To Chicago. Yay me!
I've spent the last three days culling and packing and sorting and folding and sitting on my suitcase to close it and unpacking and repacking and stopping short of tearing my hair out. Mind, I washed my hair on thursday morning and did not comb it or brush it for the rest of the day so it looks like I;ve been tearing it out.
I'm bunking with a friend, I'm really looking fwd to seeing her again. I like to think we're pretty close. Its very generous of her to open up her house to me. So thanks!
Step 2 is kicking my a**, and I'm determined to win. Its been a very ugly, one-sided battle so far and I haven't been on the winning side even once. I haven't done anything that has any relation to medicine since sunday, and I have a feeling I'm going to pay. So yeah, I'm going to have to spend next week playing catch-up.
Thats next week - which officially does not start until Sunday. So I'm going to take my time off and enjoy it - enjoy every minute of it. Take time to relax, heal and write. Maybe I'll get around to writing that novel I never really gave up on. Maybe it'll make my studying better, improve my focus. So by June 27, I should really have about 30000 words written.
Wish me luck!
I've spent the last three days culling and packing and sorting and folding and sitting on my suitcase to close it and unpacking and repacking and stopping short of tearing my hair out. Mind, I washed my hair on thursday morning and did not comb it or brush it for the rest of the day so it looks like I;ve been tearing it out.
I'm bunking with a friend, I'm really looking fwd to seeing her again. I like to think we're pretty close. Its very generous of her to open up her house to me. So thanks!
Step 2 is kicking my a**, and I'm determined to win. Its been a very ugly, one-sided battle so far and I haven't been on the winning side even once. I haven't done anything that has any relation to medicine since sunday, and I have a feeling I'm going to pay. So yeah, I'm going to have to spend next week playing catch-up.
Thats next week - which officially does not start until Sunday. So I'm going to take my time off and enjoy it - enjoy every minute of it. Take time to relax, heal and write. Maybe I'll get around to writing that novel I never really gave up on. Maybe it'll make my studying better, improve my focus. So by June 27, I should really have about 30000 words written.
Wish me luck!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Age
Gnarled fingers touching, soothing,
bringing back to life the
pleasantness of all that is spring,
youth and content.
Share with me the secret
of life on these windy cliffs
a river carved through a mountain
immemorial times ago.
Let me listen to the rhythm
of your heartbeat,
a genteel murmur – or
is it the water I hear
rushing below us
as we stand together
basking in a spring sunset?
Tell me the stories
that carved each line of you,
etched each curve.
Were they knights
that first fell in love
with your homely scents
or were they warriors
checking their steeds
at the memory
of a stolen first kiss?
Or were they Viking sailors
with blue eyes
and insignificant boats
bobbing on the river
before returning to
the conquering majesty
of their ship, carrying
news of you,
you pink-and-white-robed minstrel?
I stand here and watch
as you sparkle
in the dewy evening,
ensconced in birdsong
and whinnying horses
and the smell of rich soil
awakening around you.
bringing back to life the
pleasantness of all that is spring,
youth and content.
Share with me the secret
of life on these windy cliffs
a river carved through a mountain
immemorial times ago.
Let me listen to the rhythm
of your heartbeat,
a genteel murmur – or
is it the water I hear
rushing below us
as we stand together
basking in a spring sunset?
Tell me the stories
that carved each line of you,
etched each curve.
Were they knights
that first fell in love
with your homely scents
or were they warriors
checking their steeds
at the memory
of a stolen first kiss?
Or were they Viking sailors
with blue eyes
and insignificant boats
bobbing on the river
before returning to
the conquering majesty
of their ship, carrying
news of you,
you pink-and-white-robed minstrel?
I stand here and watch
as you sparkle
in the dewy evening,
ensconced in birdsong
and whinnying horses
and the smell of rich soil
awakening around you.
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