Who's your best friend?
My job is my life.
The people in my life are the people I work with. Of course, I have friends out of work, but they have different lives to what I have---they have families, husbands, partners, children. The things I value in life, the things I have in life, are polar opposites of theirs. That’s not to say that I don’t want what they have---I crave what some of my friends have. But until I get what they have, if I ever get what they have, my job is my sole priority.
So, it goes without saying that I’m going to find a more common ground with those I work with. Even with those that make me question my sanity every time he does something to potentially jeopardize his job, my job or the benefit of the hospital.
Then there’s Wilson, who’s more an anchor and a middle man between House and myself than I’d really like Wilson to be. Really, he’s much more House’s anchor than he is mine---though, he’s a good sounding board when I need it. He’s a good friend; even though I know when push comes to shove Wilson will always back House up well before he’d ever back me up. And I can’t blame him, really, seeing Wilson’s about all that House has got. I color House lucky for having such a devoted friend like Wilson, no matter how little House deserves it a lot of the time.
And then of course, there’s House himself. I’m willing to put a stretch on this one and say that he’s my friend. Because he is… somehow. An incredibly insufferable, incorrigible, obnoxious, self-centered friend. Who cares a lot more than he likes to let on. Who likes to get into my business way more than he’s welcome to. But that’s House for you: possessive and nosy, like a dog with a penchant for digging up the backyard; with a collection of tattered, drooled on chew toys.
I wouldn’t class House and Wilson as my best friends, not by a long shot. But they’re definitely my closest friends. How they feel about that, I’ll never know and maybe I don’t want to know. Sad and pathetic aren’t things I enjoy being called.
Cue the taunting. Or not.
Lisa Cuddy; House MD; 391 words.
The people in my life are the people I work with. Of course, I have friends out of work, but they have different lives to what I have---they have families, husbands, partners, children. The things I value in life, the things I have in life, are polar opposites of theirs. That’s not to say that I don’t want what they have---I crave what some of my friends have. But until I get what they have, if I ever get what they have, my job is my sole priority.
So, it goes without saying that I’m going to find a more common ground with those I work with. Even with those that make me question my sanity every time he does something to potentially jeopardize his job, my job or the benefit of the hospital.
Then there’s Wilson, who’s more an anchor and a middle man between House and myself than I’d really like Wilson to be. Really, he’s much more House’s anchor than he is mine---though, he’s a good sounding board when I need it. He’s a good friend; even though I know when push comes to shove Wilson will always back House up well before he’d ever back me up. And I can’t blame him, really, seeing Wilson’s about all that House has got. I color House lucky for having such a devoted friend like Wilson, no matter how little House deserves it a lot of the time.
And then of course, there’s House himself. I’m willing to put a stretch on this one and say that he’s my friend. Because he is… somehow. An incredibly insufferable, incorrigible, obnoxious, self-centered friend. Who cares a lot more than he likes to let on. Who likes to get into my business way more than he’s welcome to. But that’s House for you: possessive and nosy, like a dog with a penchant for digging up the backyard; with a collection of tattered, drooled on chew toys.
I wouldn’t class House and Wilson as my best friends, not by a long shot. But they’re definitely my closest friends. How they feel about that, I’ll never know and maybe I don’t want to know. Sad and pathetic aren’t things I enjoy being called.
Cue the taunting. Or not.
Lisa Cuddy; House MD; 391 words.