You know, sometimes...ok, a lot of times, I do really really stupid shit. I don't know what comes over me...maybe I'm stressed out. Yesterday is a prime example. It shouldn't be a big deal, but I went to a dinner to hang out with the two docs who are gonna write my dean's letters when I apply to residency. I guess the smart people were jamming their noses up the docs' asses...albeit the docs are really cool people and genuinely fun to hang out with. Anyhow, somewhere along the line, I had a little too much wine and got a little goofy. I don't think much damage was done, but what was I thinking! I mean...it could've ended up poorly. nobody else was drinking, just sipping one drink, not infusing their entire intracellular volume of distribution with the purging sulfites of wine. Dang...I've gotta get my head on straight and start kissing the right asses.
I've been going over old PhD comics and I remembered this specific one...searched for it. It doesn't seem that great now, but when I saw it in the fall of 2003, I thought it was embued with such subtle emotion and pain. It was a reflection of what I was feeling at that time. Letter after damn frickin' rejection letter from 30-something medical schools. Damn...I wanted to cry. I really wanted to go to medical school and become a doctor. That hasn't really changed per se. I'm not really slacking now, doing well, but why do I dick around so much? I guess I haven't been very true to myself lately...kinda confused about who I am sometimes.
bender
I can't sleep, so I'm going to add more. I guess I'm not doing so well. I hate to admit, but I'm in a nasty funk. I know, because I just stare at my computer monitor for hours and don't realize that I'm just staring at it. That's why I need to just turn everything off, call it a day and go to sleep. Otherwise, it'll soon become 6 am and I'll be still sitting, shell-shocked, wondering what just happened. She usually helps me get over the funk pretty quickly before I become more self-destructive.
But really, I have a lot to be thankful for. My biking buddy called me last night. A little history on the guy. He was in a PhD program when he developed narcolepsy. He'd fall asleep while performing surgery on rodents, so he had to sell his car and start biking. Enter me. He is switching to an education program because his PhD program is too risky to his health. Unfortunately, this last week, new symptoms have set in. He can't concentrate, and when he tries to read, none of the words on the page make any sense to him. It's a side effect of his drugs...his disease is progressing rapidly. He is a really nice guy. I guess it's not bad things happening to good people...it just is. A lot of these diseases are programmed in the genes...they just are running their course. I guess I'm having a hard time seeing the merciful hand of God in all this.
I went to a lunch bible study today with Jason. The woman speaker was out of control. Kept rambling about sin and random babies who recently died of cancer and all this stuff. Tried to evoke an emotional response to manipulate us. She was passionate, but really, it was pathetic and poorly thought out. Why is Jesus the answer to all of their problems? He hasn't answered my prayers. He doesn't pay my rent, bring back dead friends, cure disease around me. He works in mysterious ways...there are tons of people getting seriously screwed over in this world...haven't got a chance in the world. Then they get to look forward to hell? Damn, if they're all screwed, I deserve to be screwed right along with them. What makes me special? I've never done anything good or of special worth. I have no peace. I am not satisfied. There must be more...
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