(no subject)
I was discharging a patient today, and while I was taking her outside, we were chitchatting about phone bills and mothers and we eventually starting talking about how I'm considering medicine because it's my unambitious career choice (regardless of the years of schooling, I still see it as the back door option) and it's what my parents want and I think it's what I want...blah, blah, blah. Then she asked me if it was what I really wanted to be in life, or if I'd rather by a fashion model or something outrageous like that. I confessed! What's the secret ambition? To strut down a Marc Jacobs runway during New York fashion week. Admittedly, I practice my model walk on the treadmill at 2 mph. Will you see me walking down that runway anytime soon? No. Why? I'm physically flawed (severe height deficiency and persistent acne). So what now? Default back to medicine.
That's how it always goes. I wish I was downtown by the lake right now.
That's how it always goes. I wish I was downtown by the lake right now.