Let it be...

In medicine we always, or at least we think, do things for a logical reason. The drugs that we administer, the tests that we subject our patients to, the clothes that we wear during surgery. The reasons are because drugs reps tell us to, we don't know what is really going on and we think scrubs are more sterile that the briefs we just ran through the wash cycle. He's joking right? sure.

Anyhow, it's a weird feeling. It's weird that we should have to justify our behavior. I eat because I'm hungry and sleep because I'm tired. The word choices I make and things I choose to do in my free time do not deserve scrutiny. It might provide a peer into my awkward and perverted mind, but why do I feel the need to justify myself? Perhaps it's because I hear comments that I to some degree believe to be true in my mind. Traces of guilt lingering in the dark crevices of my hollow (not hallow) mind.

Do our word choices reflect how we really feel deep inside? I guess it does. Even if I stop calling my roommate a pussy, it doesn't keep from him being one. Perhaps I'm socially maladapted. I don't change my behavior to fit the needs of the attending, residents, friends, etc. I like to think that what you see if what you get, but perhaps I do adjust my behavior more than I like to admit, likely in a maladaptive way. I'm rambling. Screw everything, I'm going to faces today by myself to learn how to country line dance. It's not as arbitrary as polka dancing. Even if it were, I love polka. There are few things as satisfying as polka-ing with a tall girl in knee high boots. Tromping, trailblazing through the crowd and noting the changing pitch of the blazing trumpet.

I can't help but be me. I'm sorry if me isn't always the same.

-bender

p.s. country line dancing was freaking awesome. btw, don't mess with denise. He was a sniper who served three tours in Nam.