We are younger now than we were before.

I want steak.

I want sleep.

I want to know why the spacebar isn't working here.

Where would I be now? If I didn't have the influence of having been told to be a doctor from the age of -2, would I even be here? Or would I be a classicist, living in Oxford, translating old texts for the mediocrity of mankind. Would I be a chef, running a little diner where 75% of the menu comes with gravy. Would I be an opera singer, struggling to prove my worth and my sad lack of perfect pitch. Would I be a yoga instructor and physical trainer, doing fitness competitions and being centered and at peace.

Hang on to your hats, folks. We may actually find out. 30 is the new 18.

If you have no voice, scream

This is a particularly stressful time in my life. I don't have a guaranteed position for next year, and I hate the hospital I am currently working at for 5 months straight.

I am very apprehensive about the future. Not because things may not go right and I may not be happy. I am with Jonny, I will always be happy, and there are so many things that bring me joy I am certain I would be content. But it may not be a residency position next year, and regardless, it will mean a move to another city, again.

I also have my yearly exam, the outcome of which will dictate the likelihood of said job next year.  So, until January 29th, please send me your love.

I need some yoga, a hot bath, and a Tony's Organic Market cookie.