.it keeps marching on.
The it in the title not referring to me, per se, but to life. As in my life. Sadly, not the lives of my patients. Or, rather, to a slower drum. And then to an even slower drum. And then...it tapers further. Tapers to off.
How can I dare to complain?
I don't know, but I still do. Good God, I suppose I should have figured that I was a selfish wench if even the cancer factory (as I decided to call it this morning, though it denotes some sort of cancer-producing agent as opposed to this cancer-curing/fixing/palliative agent) couldn't cure me of my egocentrism.
Keep having the feeling recently of, "Well, if it wasn't this, it'd be something else." Not just the simplistic, "Well, it's neither here nor there because it could be here or there, so where's the meaning, huh?" but also the, "Egads, if it wasn't this catastrophe, I'm sure it would be another kind, so no use in being here and wishing for there."
I am not making any sense, even to myself, I can be sure of that. Maybe it's the 25+ hours I've already worked this week.
Shitfrackers.
How can I dare to complain?
I don't know, but I still do. Good God, I suppose I should have figured that I was a selfish wench if even the cancer factory (as I decided to call it this morning, though it denotes some sort of cancer-producing agent as opposed to this cancer-curing/fixing/palliative agent) couldn't cure me of my egocentrism.
Keep having the feeling recently of, "Well, if it wasn't this, it'd be something else." Not just the simplistic, "Well, it's neither here nor there because it could be here or there, so where's the meaning, huh?" but also the, "Egads, if it wasn't this catastrophe, I'm sure it would be another kind, so no use in being here and wishing for there."
I am not making any sense, even to myself, I can be sure of that. Maybe it's the 25+ hours I've already worked this week.
Shitfrackers.