Saturday night

Five random things on my mind tonight....

1. It's my mom's birthday. Happy birthday, Mom.

2. About a month ago I backed into some guy's car, and we're trying to settle without involving my insurance. We've spent part of the evening negotiating by email. He got a little snarky. The whole thing is summed up nicely in this quote, courtesy of Claudia (who's also given me some good advice about this): "Good tactical  move not calling him an asshat."

3. Wow I'm tired. And I have to be at the gym at 8am to work out and meet my trainer.

4. Tomorrow's going to be another busy day. Graduation party number two, you know, before the actual graduation next week.

5. Today was also Chicken Day. One of the local volunteer fire departments, to which a couple of my friends belong, does this big fundraiser every year where they spend all night cooking barbecue chicken. It's really good. And they rig up a drivethru at the firehouse, which just cracks me up (and is very convenient).

Suspending reality

So I've taken to watching movies on Netflix during my workouts. 30 minutes at a time, on my tiny iPhone screen, on the treadmill. But you'd be surprised how big that screen seems when you get into the movie. Anyhow, I only had 20 minutes left of the movie Up, so I just finished watching it.

I'm going to need to watch it again, not broken into 30 minute chunks.

So far I'm going with, cute. I really liked Kevin, the bird, and Doug, the dog. Really liked the dog. Kinda makes me wish Maggie had one of those collars. She's so quiet. I'd love to know what goes on in that furry little head.

Might have to Redbox it and take it to my parents'.

Next up in my queue is Outsourced, or maybe Kickass. Prior to Up I watched Easy A, which is a modern-day, high school take on The Scarlet Letter and which I also highly recommend (I was laughing, in public, on the treadmill, at my tiny iPhone screen).

As beyond believable as I found Up, this still sometimes seems preferable to the real world, where today in clinic I saw a high school student who already had three kids.

Sometimes reality is just as beyond belief.

Sage advice

So my trainer tells me this morning that what I really need to do to lose weight is decrease my stress. He tells me there was a big article on hormones and weight gain in The Journal Of Really Fit People or one of those fancy publications he reads.

Yep, Buddy. True that.

What he didn't tell me, however, was how exactly I'm supposed to accomplish that. Especially with my life. 

Thoughts? Short of magically generating siblings, marrying rich, or being a bad shrink, of course...

More weekend, please.

It's been a nice weekend.

Had a good ride yesterday. Went down to the motorcycle shop nearby looking for a cargo net (they were sold out) and took the looooong way back. I did much better on this ride. I'm definitely doing better than I was, say, 200 miles ago when I bought the bike. And it was really nice. There were a lot of other bikers out on the road, too, which was cool. I need to keep riding. One of my biker friends just sent me a link to a map of a ride they take often, which I need to try out one of these days.

Had a nice visit with Olga last night, too. She's recovering nicely from her pneumonia and her bedsore is healing. It's such a long road for her  - it's been 10 weeks since the fire, and although she has a long way to go, she's come so far. She's so awesome and amazing. I'm glad we're friends.

Went for sushi last night with some coffee friends and friends of theirs. Met some fun new people. Hung out with some fun folks I already knew. Ate some really good vegetarian sushi (I love me some good vegetarian sushi). Had a really good time.

Today was a little more laid back. Coffee with the Village, lunch with the girls. Worked out with my trainer. Tried to take a nap (didn't work). Dishes, laundry, blah, blah, blah. Can't complain about today except that it's followed by a Monday.

I start consults tomorrow. I'm definitely looking forward to the lower intensity. It'll be nice to have a little change of pace....

Blah, blah, blah

It was a big day for some reasons I can't yet divulge (don't you love it when I do that?) but also because I started on the child unit today. Whew. I forgot how exhausting the little ones can be, especially when they suddenly have to be discharged.

My day actually started much earlier than that. My adolescent therapy patient who comes at 7am (voluntarily. Of her own choosing)....um...well, she came at 7am. We're doing some transition work now, so she only comes every other week. We had a good session today, about some pretty heavy stuff. And then, later, after the whirlwind discharge and while I was on my way to supervision (handy), she sent me a text telling me that what we had talked about this morning ended poorly.

Can I be totally honest with you? It broke my heart a little.

I know we're all trained to come off as being somewhat aloof and all "blank slate" and whatnot, but here's a dirty little secret of psychotherapy: we get emotionally invested. At least, the good ones do. And this is a kid I've been seeing for three years now, which is not an insignificant chunk of her life (or mine, for that matter). I've seen her grow in a lot of really profound ways. And even if my response was something close to the cliche "that must be so hard for you," I really hurt for her. To really get the emotional content, blank slate or not, you have to make an emotional connection. That's why this work is so exhausting. I see it in my colleagues' exuberance about college acceptance or dismay at an abrupt and clumsy termination. We may sometimes give the impression that you may only exist to us for a fifty minute hour, but in truth, as much as we hope our patients internalize us, we internalize them to some degree too.

It's kind of cool, when you get right down to it.

Oh - and, I went to the gym after work and supervision and therapy and the, um, whatnot, and I did my little proscribed treadmill workout at 1.8 miles per hour in the middle of the crowded, post-work-rush gym. Yeah, I was still self-conscious about it (especially because that 7% grade was kicking my ass today), but I did it.

Baby steps, you know?

As per usual

I could use a little more weekend.

This one was pretty useful. Friday was another late night at work. I got home and just passed the hell out. I am so ready for a break from the Adolescent unit. I really like working on the unit, actually, but it's intense. I think Peng and I are both a little burned out from it.

Saturday morning I met my new trainer. We'll call him Buddy. I'm not really sure why, it just seems suitable. Anyhow, he's not quite as scenic as Gomer, but he appears to be a lot smarter. Which, given that I think a big part of the reason my knees have gotten so bad in the past two years is the work I did with Gomer, I'm all over having a smarter trainer. He's affable enough, originally a Midwesterner, kind of a talker, which I'm okay with. He seems fairly anxious, actually. But in a possibly medicated way, not in that "Oh, hey, you're a shrink? Let me tell you about my issues" kind of way. And let's be honest, I'm not going to throw stones in the glass house of anxiety. But it seems like a good fit, which is something I need right now. And he was willing to work with my very rigid ideas about how many sessions my tax return would buy and how we were going to use them, which I appreciate.

I will say...he's got me doing this low speed/high incline interval treadmill workout which I did for the first time in its entirety today. I was really self-conscious about how slow I was going. Is that weird? I mean, I'm used to being self-conscious at the gym, and let's be honest - I work with a trainer so I work out smarter and don't hurt myself. It really doesn't matter what the guy on the next treadmill thinks. I have goals, here, people. Plus, the whole 30 minute workout burned 360 calories, and my knees and feet feel fine, which they don't always post-workout. So, you know...if the anorexic woman maniacally running on the arc trainer feels the need to be judgmental about my treadmill speed, let her.

Today was rainy, but productive. I actually got quite a bit checked off my to-do list. Didn't get out on the bike this weekend, though. Next weekend for sure...

Not enough weekend

It's been busy. It's been fine. It's been full of good friends.

Met my new trainer this morning. Kit. Yep, Kit and Kate. She's perky.

Dug through the storage unit for an hour in 80 degree weather later.

I need more weekend.

But I have a 7am patient, so I reeeeeeeeeeeeally need to get to bed! More tomorrow. I'm working on a substantive post in my head.

Another week down

Yeah, so, I didn't get too much done today.

Mags went with me to coffee this morning. Her boyfriend Eddie came along, too.

It does bother me a little that my dog has a steady and I...have a dog....

But nonetheless. Eddie - whose full name is Eddie the Neurotic Wonderdawg, if that tells you anything - was SUCH a good boy, and it was his first time at the coffee shop. They had fun together. The humans enjoyed it, too.

We got some lunch, I went to the gym....and then I'm not sure where the rest of the day went.

I had a really restless workout. Ten minutes on the elliptical, ten on the bike, ten on the treadmill, five on the rower, twenty on the other treadmill. Fuss, fuss, fuss. I came home, putzed around, finally got around to showering, did some laundry, did some dishes...I don't know why I'm so uneasy today...

I also missed the fact that it was the 19th, not the 18th, which is what I'd been thinking. Which means I also missed yesterday - as of yesterday, I've had Maggie for SEVEN YEARS! That's crazy!!! Also awesome. And lucky, I think, for both of us. She's the greatest dog ever. Even if she does have a better love life than I do...

Is it Friday yet?

So I didn't leave the hospital until 7:30 tonight. I got there at 6:30 this morning. It was a long ass day. So long in fact that this afternoon I was talking to my boss about an email I'd sent her when I got up this morning and referred to it as "that email I sent you last night."

I'm in dire need of a weekend.

And a good night's sleep, since I have to meet my trainer in the morning at quarter past dark.

Did I mention that it was a long-ass day?

Lazy Sunday

In response to the question apparently raised by yesterday's post, no, I don't have anyone specific in mind with that reference. It resonated, though, for reasons I'm not sure I can verbalize, except to say that I've always felt like we have a path in life. That we're given the challenges we are, put in the situations we are, encounter the people we do, for reasons beyond our understanding. Our job, then, is to learn what we can from each one, take whatever data we can gather from each interaction, observe and synthesize that information into what informs us as we move through the rest of our lives.

It's not an uncommon philosophy. It's fairly fatalist, I suppose. But, it's the way I make sense of my life, you know?

Today was a relatively low-key, minimally productive kind of day. I went to the Starbucks, got some actual work done. Then I went to the gym, where I spent a little too long, I think (but, there was an SVU marathon on and the episode wasn't over, so I just kind of kept going on the treadmill.....), after which I came home for a little puppy lovin'. Little Maxine was visiting us overnight, and I got such a good double dose of snuggles, that I put my head down...you know, just for a moment...I didn't actually get any real restorative sleep, but it was good for the soul. But I finally got myself motivated enough to get up and get in the shower, with lofty goals of taking Little Maxine back to Sparrow's, then going to Ulta (I need sunscreen and hair dye), Lane Bryant (I need pants), and Target (I need stuff. Not the least of which is groceries). And I feel like there was somewhere else I was going to go, too. But then I get out of the shower and find my dog happily devouring the end of my bottle of melatonin.

I thought...hmm...

So I Googled, and it seemed to be fine. And, just to be sure, I called the vet. Who couldn't really say definitively, so they gave me two phone numbers to call. One turned out to be Carolina Poison Control, whom I talk to not infrequently and was most certainly NOT going to call and be all "so, about my dog..." The other one was the ASPCA poison control line, which seemed appropriate. And, apparently, charges $60 per consultation. Which...you know what? Fine. It was worth the peace of mind to hear that it would probably just make her sleepy.

Which...well....duh.

So, I aborted the errands mission to keep an eye on the pooch. Rene came and picked up the small one, and I got to meet the future Mr. Rene, who was very nice. And then I spent a few hours scouring over the photography books I bought a couple of weeks ago, one of which is specifically about my camera. I took some pictures on the various settings, and made some notes, and then flipped through the other one, which is "for teens, by teens." I'm thinking the teens had some help, because it was the most useful and accessible book I found when I was sitting on the floor at the Border's sifting through every book I saw that looked mildly useful in the photography section. And had the best pictures. Which is kind of the point, isn't it?

I didn't take anything super exciting (I pointed and shot at whatever was sitting next to me on the bed), but I got a couple that were kind of cool. One was of yarn.

But for the shots in which I was fiddling with the shutter speed, yarn just wouldn't cut it. Fortunately, I had a willing subject....

Whoosh...

Year three, day two. Went better. Still hectic.

On Thursday, I have to present a Journal Club article to the group. Something about postpartumness. Some idiot, who might have been me, decided a 17-page Cochran Review on the use of estrogen and progesterone in post-partum depression sounded like a good idea. Problem is, *I* actually have to read it!!

So that's what I'm going to go do. Because, it's not like I can move. My quads are SO SORE from SUNDAY's workout, I can still barely get up out of a chair. But gonna gym tomorrow AM, so have to get up wicked early. And more punishment on Thursday, but this time she's meeting me at 5:30am.

Oy, the masochism....

How is it Friday??

This week has been going by so fast...

Today was a little more laid back. I slept in a little, ran some errand with my mom, we made cookies, I went to the gym. And my cousins, whom I so totally adore, came over. We talked, we ate, we were loud. It was a very Greek good time.

Lots of culinary wonderfulness today. Portillo's hamburger for lunch, Giordano's stuffed cheese pizza for dinner. That's the stuff of epicurean Chicago legend.

And I worked out on this whole different cross-trainer today at the local gym. It was like some sort of stair-stepper/elliptical hybrid thingie. It was amusing and fancy and had a lot of buttons. It made my feet hurt (the elliptical always does, the past couple of weeks. I clearly need new shoes...). I had a short little workout today, only a half hour, just cardio, but, it was restorative. And something has to combat all the cheese and grease and cookies of today...

Family gathering tomorrow. Knitting Sunday. Road trip again Monday. I can't believe it's almost time to go back....

Where's my day of rest?

It was a busy day. It's gonna be a busy day tomorrow. Oy.

The dogs woke me up at 6:30 (on a Saturday!! Need to get those girls a calendar) by dive-bombing me. So I finally agreed and got up, Mags and I went to Starbucks (Maxine got to stay home in Maggie's crate, which she just loved. It was adorable. She thought she was queen of the world), and then I came home and worked on a knitting project that's due next Saturday. I spent two hours at the gym. I picked up my bridesmaid's dress - which, blissfully, is the right length and doesn't need to be altered - and my shoes, and a new skin for my phone (the old one fell apart today). I went to work for three or four hours and moved most of my stuff to my new desk in our new office (the Pink Office is going prime time, folks. We're a little worried, given the nature of the conversations that go on in there on a daily basis). I also cleared out all my files and my big stack of papers and my drawer of, as Ruthie calls it, Nuclear Holocaust food (I had a lot of microwave-in-the-pouch rice stuff in there). The dogs are fed and walked...and I'm really, really tired.

I met my new trainer at 9. She's nice. She's a she. That's a little weird. Gomer she ain't, but, maybe the change is good. We're going to call her Kelly. She's blonde and thin (she has a very athletic build, though, she's not a twig) and younger than me, but easy to talk to and, as she says, "probably a little more gentle and sensitive that your last trainer." So far I like her, which is more than I could say for Gomer after our first session. He grew on me, though, obviously.

But one thing she definitely has on him was that she seemed to take me seriously today. We did our little assessment, which was way more involved than the one Gomer and I did (his was all weights and measures. She tested my balance, my heart rate recovery, my lifting endurance), and she was consistently just like, alright, here it is. And she seemed reasonably impressed (I maxed out on the 40lb chest press at 40 reps. Our new goal is 50 reps of 55 lbs in the next 8 months. I don't know why 8 months, but, okay). Now, she also has the benefit of getting me after six months of Gomer, which Gomer obviously did not. But he was sort of like, "Yeah, whatever" in the beginning, until I actually did what he told me to between sessions and didn't drop out and was like, "bring it on." She also did a really good job of being like, "Okay, you're a doctor, I don't need to explain things like BMI to you or why it's useless." She also was like, "great," when I said I didn't want weight to be a goal. Gomer, our first day, was like, "Let's try to get you to lose 10 lbs this month." I said, "Well, let's just do what we do and see where I end up." He didn't seem to know what to do with that answer. He got over it. Gomer really did do an awesome job of "getting over it," in a lot of different ways.

I had to pick a goal for our training work, either "lean," "healthy," or "strong." Now, as she pointed out, you head for one, the others will follow, but, they have different schemas depending on what you pick. I thought about it for a minute, and picked lean.

This was kind of huge for me (no pun intended). Because I'm never going to be skinny. Ever. My calculated lean body mass alone (so, none of the fat, just muscle and bone and organs and whatnot) rests right at the lower cusp of "obese" on the BMI range (because BMI is USELESS. Ahem). And I don't intend to stop building lean body mass just yet. But my frame is too big, and my genes too curvy, for me to ever be skinny. So I spend so much time trying to accept that fact that it feels a little like I might be setting myself up for failure by making this choice. But, the goal, really, isn't "skinny." It's "change my body" - not, primarily, my cardiovascular health or my endurance or my muscle strength - which is more reasonable, and more healthy, but also just a huge-huge-hugely-huge step out of the "safe" zone for me. "Fat" is an easy thing to blame when things go wrong. "Fat" is a useful device for internalizing my anger and self-deprecation and all those other things that go along with a history like mine. "Fat" is also protective against having to relive that history. It gives me a wall to put up when I need one ("He'd never be interested. I'm too fat. Good reason not to take the risk"). I don't know what I'd look like any other way, what I'd feel like, what it would be like to be me. This is frustrating and annoying (and, in a lot of ways - mostly influenced by my underactive thyroid and my polycystic ovaries - not as within my control as I might like to think), but it's also....safe.

So it's really interesting, this (we're going to go with "interesting"). Most of that minute I was thinking about it, I was thinking, is this something I'm ready to do? To focus on? To say, I accept this, but I want something different? To let go of all that it means, symbolizes, and provides?

I think I am.

And, you know, my real goal is still to accept who I am, whatever size, whatever else it means, no matter what. To feel better in my body and in my skin, to live here and live fully. So it fits that I'm not really working towards a weight goal (although I have a safe body fat percentage as a target) and not really working in a rigid time frame. It just is what it is, it comes as it comes, it moves forward and backward as it needs to. And we'll see where it goes.

Look, y'all, no one said it was normal inside my head...

Newness.

I have a new camera.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine out in California over some pictures he took at some other friends' party. They were awesome, and I was really impressed with the quality. I asked what he was shooting with, and he had just gotten a Canon Rebel (higher end than I could afford), but it turns out they make a relatively inexpensive one (for a dSLR camera), and I've been price-watching for a while. Someone finally offered up a deal I still can't quite afford, but I'm considering it a combined "hooray for getting into fellowship" and "way to survive another year" gift for myself.

The battery finally charged up, and I shot some pictures with it, just around my living room.

Oh. I LOVE it.

It's upgradeable and gorgeous and there are other lens kits and I totally love the picture quality. The color balance is SO much better than my old one (I was constantly having to fix the colors on the Kodak). It's got that rapid-action shooting feature I like so much. You can shoot really nice point-and-shoot stuff on it, or manipulate it like a traditional reflex-lens camera.

Wowie. Wowie, wowie, wowie, am I excited. Because you know how much I fancy myself an amateur photographer. This makes me giddy with the idea of going out shooting tomorrow (we'll see if I have time).

I also joined a new gym today, because I went to the Peak (the chain where I've been going since December, where Gomer lived until yesterday, which is closing all its Triangle locations) near where I live now, and it has already closed. But there was a notice on the door stating that Lifestyle Family Fitness was absorbing our contracts, and they just happen to be next door to my apartment. So, I said, fine. I stormed over there and said, okay, what can you do for me?

As it turns out, not much.

Well, that's not true. There's not much they can do about my current membership, which was prepaid for two years. Two years. It seemed like SUCH a good deal at the time. It worked out to being, like, $12 a month...except...oops.

They really screwed me on this.

I might be able to get out of my training contract, because Gomer no longer works for them. Which is great for him - as I told him earlier, I had no doubt he'd land on his feet. And I have an intake appointment next Saturday with a trainer at the new place. She's very nice, but I can already tell, she's no Gomer. Among other things, she's nowhere near as scenic. And I like to think Gomer and I have gotten to be friends by this point, despite the fact that I hated him when we started.

It's a big change.

But the new gym said, well, come in and work out. And it was really nice. Click on the link up there, and then membership, and take the virtual tour. My club really does look like that. All the machines work. There's TONS of 'em. And they're the Life Fitness ellipticals that I like (we have two at the gym in CH, and a bunch of these black ones that I'm too short for). There's separate areas for the free motion machines, the Hammer Strength machines (which have the big weight plates), and the Life Fitness machines (which have weight stacks). And there's a whole separate personal training area (they say it's "private", but, it's kind of in the middle of everything). They have two classrooms, one for high intensity cardio, and one for yoga and pilates. The locker rooms are clean, and very nice, although they still don't have towels for the showers (I was spoiled by the fitness center in medical school. That one had shampoo and soap in the wall, real towels, and a hair dryer bar). And all the cardio machines have those little TVs on them, with limited cable, which was awesome (I watched a whole episode of Royal Pains while I worked out. It was cute). Plus, there's tanning, and childcare, if you're into those sorts of things.

All in all, it was a pretty cool facility.

And the crowd there today was definitely more fit, "pretty" people than my old gym (which was mostly over 60, although those old people could kick my ass), but nobody acted like I didn't belong there. And when I said, I might need a new trainer, they were like, "Of course. Come over here, we'll set you up." I really appreciated that. The staff was very friendly, and the people seemed nice enough. Plus, they gave me a decent rate, with no admin fees (because I was coming from Peak), and they're part of IHSRA, which means I can work out at member clubs all over the country (i.e., Chicago) as part of my membership here.

We'll see how it goes, I guess.

I'm still not sure what I think about breaking up with my trainer. And leaving him for a woman.

There's a lot of changes going on around here...

Coming soon to a blog near me...

So, I initially was going to post a link to a very funny site that I stumbled across tonight in my oh-geez-I-can't-move, post-Gomer, laying-like-a-big-lump-ness (work was long and crazy. Oh, so, so crazy. Gomer, whom I haven't seen in two weeks because he was off at the beach and then I was moving, apparently felt the need to make up for lost time. And the gym was like SEVEN THOUSAND DAMN DEGREES. I had so few electrolytes at the end of our workout that I could barely put three words together. I stopped and got Schlotsky's for dinner purely out of lust for the roughly swimming-pool-sized unsweet tea that comes with their - also tasty - vegetarian sandwich, and cranked the AC in the car. Then I came home, delighted in the fact that my dining room table is still clear enough for me to eat dinner there, showered, and commenced with the lump-like laying. It was needed. Of course, the caffeine from the unsweet tea kiddie pool was not, and now it's 10:30...but, I digress. Longly).

And then, I started thinking about the conversation I had with my shrink last night, which entailed things like, "So, I've decided to make Gomer stop weighing me during our assessments (one of which is due soon. I'm hoping he forgets). Because the number is kind of irrelevant at this point. I think the measurements and body fat analysis are more meaningful, but as my body composition changes, that actual number doesn't mean shit. Like, I calculated my lean body mass the other day, which turned out to be X. And then I back calculated what my goal weight would be if my lean body mass stayed exactly the same - which it's so not gonna, if I keep this up - and I were 25% body fat, which is reasonable, and it was Y." She says, "Okay. And?" I blinked at her and said, "Well...I dunno, people who weigh that much can't possibly be healthy, right? I mean, what doctor's going to be like, your BMI (speaking of totally meaningless measurements) is like seven billion, but good work, you're not unacceptably fat anymore?"

Yes, I know. I did go to medical school, remember? I didn't even wait for her to give me the "you know you're being irrational, right?" look to point out that I was being ridiculous.

So I'm thinking about this tonight, and was trying to remember the formulas for basal metabolic rate and caloric need and blah blah blah, thinking about getting more strictly back on the meal plan my wonderful dietitian from a few years ago devised (she's in Florida. And not answering email), and feeling like that might not actually cover my BMR, which, is sort of the anti-answer. So I Google, and follow some links, and then I end up with three new blogs I totally love and a rant about why being fat is the last acceptable bias and this crazy, evil, awful woman who's crusading against fat people. Because we're just that gross, or something, I don't know why she feels the need to do anything besides shut the fuck up (because, really? REALLY what she should do).

But, now it's 10:40, and I do have to go to work tomorrow, and I decided I'm going to table that blog post for Love Thursday. But to give you a hint at the coming attractions, watch this:



(I so love her)

(Also...shit. I guess this means I need to actually write something useful on Thursday...)

Ouch.

Everybody think encouraging thoughts for Chef. He and Peng headed out for a nice weekend in the mountains and ended up having his appendix yanked. I told him (well, I told Peng to tell him) I haven't missed mine for a minute. Still, yeowch. So, send good mojo his way.

Today was long, as Tuesdays always are. I had a much better show rate today (7/8). Two of my intake patients today were actually very enjoyable, even if one was 30 minutes late. One was a big ol' help-rejecting complainer (Fix me! Nothing you do will work!), although, I understand his frustration (I was still annoyed). My Tuesday afternoon is my psychotic disorders clinic, which is always interesting. I said goodbye to two of my patients today, as they will be following up with new residents (the current interns) the next time they come in, because next year we're only half time clinic (half time inpatient), so we have to pare down our clinics. Both are doing fine, will be delightful patients for whomever gets them, but one of them is one of my very favorite patients. He, unfortunately, may need more care than I can make available to him (I'm keeping 9 psychotic patients; they suggested we keep two or three) if circumstances advance as they might, so I'm passing him on, but, it was sort of sad. He was one of the patients that was in the NIMH trials back in the day when they decided to try psychoanalysis for psychosis. It doesn't work. But it gave him some really interesting perspectives on things, and he's a really smart guy, so he's always so interesting to talk to.

I've told a couple of my patients already that they probably won't be seeing me again. But, our psychotic clinics are smaller, and we tend to know the patients better, so this is the first time I've really been sort of sad about it. But it's the first of many of these goodbyes, since I'm only keeping 30 patients or so (ehhh...or so) next year, and then am giving those up the following year when I start fellowship.

Something about closing doors and opening windows, blah, blah, blah.

But I made it out almost in time, and headed to the gym, because I had my weekly ass-kicking scheduled. Gomer and I had rearranged this appointment, and we happened to be texting about this shortly after some annoying stuff had happened. We've been talking about pulling out the boxing equipment for a while, so I was like, "Can we hit things tonight?" And so we did. And it was good. He wiped the floor with me (actually, he made me stop after about 20 minutes when I couldn't especially breathe...), but I loved every damn minute of it. And I didn't even barf on him. And I did another 30 minutes on the treadmill afterwards.

I'm always the girl who fixes things, you know? Keeps her shit together and takes care of everyone else. I never get mad. I get incensed, but mostly about things that happen to people I care about, you know? And so even in this small, controlled, removed sort of way, being able to be a bit more forceful was really cathartic. And believe me, I've got plenty of untapped latent aggression yet to be liberated...

But then again, I'm a shrink. It's always either about sex or aggression with us, isn't it?

Answers

So, in answer to the quiz posted yesterday....

1. My very first car was a red, three door hatchback Geo Metro. I got it when I was 16, and we traded my grandmother's Buick for two identical red, three door hatchback Geo Metros, except my dad's was a stick. Mine lasted about 60K miles; his lasted until I left for residency the first time (ten years, roughly) and might still be going if he hadn't sold it. I have owned all the other cars listed, though. I traded the Geo in for a black Jeep Grand Cherokee, which I traded for an olive green Pontiac Aztec when it started whispering about transmission problems. The Jeep had two broken bumpers and a ketchup stain I couldn't get off the back seat from one of my friends during our road trip to South Carolina first year of medical school. The Asscrack, as Brett has been known to call it, was a really awful shade of green, so they gave me a $200 discount ("the Ugly Car Discount") to get it painted (I also got a really good deal in general, but, alas, it never quite was the Jeep...). So it turned blue one day, but the interior frames of the doors were still green. It was funny. I rolled the Asscrack off the road in New Hampshire, minutes (okay, a week?) after I'd bought the current Silver Jeep ("There's no way in hell I'm moving to the Northeast without four-wheel-drive." I think that was said the day I matched at the Emerald Palace) and my dad took possession (and title, and insurance) of the Aztek. The end result of that whole deal was that I got a mild concussion and a bruise on my scapula, and he got a new Subaru, which he totalled not too long after I moved back home...

2. I was a lunatic, and did three majors in four years - Biology, Chemistry, and Humanities. The Humanities major kept me sane and got me out of the science building once in a while...

3. It's very pink in our office, which we blame on Ruthie. I concede that I have contributed to the pink a little, where as Peng holds steadfastly to her black and purple motif. Mostly it's the big pink chair in our office....

4. I do not like meat on a pizza. I'm not such a big fan of meat in general. Plain old cheese is just fine, veggie is usually also doable, but when given my choice, I'll pick broccoli, green pepper, and feta every time. Much like I did last night when Peng and I went for Chicago Style deep dish after the wine tasting. It was gooooood....

5. I didn't realize until later that this was some tricky wording. My ink is on my low back, which, technically is still my back. But my friends informed me a couple of years ago when I was home that a tattoo in this location is now called a "tramp stamp." Which cracks. me. up.

6. I have never been a gym teacher. Between doctoring stints, I worked in a yarn shop, sold yarn, and taught knitting. It was not lucrative (I was paid in yarn. No, really), but it was a good time, I learned some valuable business skills, and met some really awesome people. Because of whom, I started this blog. So, blame the yarn shop.

7. I do love ice cream. I'll go for months without eating it, because it just doesn't occur to me, and then be like, oh! Wait! Ice cream! My very favorite is Ben and Jerry's Half Baked, which is a mixture of chocolate brownie and chocolate chip cookie dough. B&J's makes the very best cookie dough, ever. Also good in a pinch are Cherry Garcia frozen yogurt and Breyer's mint chocolate chip. I don't know that I've ever eaten Dressler's, but I think it's what Edy's calls itself in some parts of the country.

8. Much to the dismay of my early education teachers, I wanted to be a paleontologist. Which is a person who studies dinosaurs, of course. But it's hard to spell when you're doing the "All About Me" poster for Kate day in Kindergarten...

9. Maggie was originally named Sweet Pea when she lived at the shelter. We were having none of that, so she was "dog" for about three days until she named herself Margaret. No, really. I was sitting in the backyard with her and my roommate's dog, and I looked at her all of a sudden and went, "You're a Margaret, aren't you?" And she licked my face, and so it was.

10. Did the song lyrics contest teach you nothing? (And yes, yes, I know I still owe two of you yarn and one of you a felted bag. Deal with it, it's coming.)

So there you go.

Today was good. I went to the branch of my gym that's by my new/old apartment. It was decent...not a whole lot different from my current place when you get right down to it. Except the people are different, and that's what I like most about my gym. OH!! And the showers are co-ed. I was like, what, now? Are you kidding me???! I think they're intended to mostly be showers for coming in and out of the pool, but, whoa.

Anyhow.

So then I went back over to the complex and signed my lease. We're moving in like two weeks, assuming I can find movers. Yikes!! Fortunately, my parents very graciously offered to come pack me up next week (since I'm doing all that pesky working and whatnot, and spent so much time finding a place this week that I haven't yet gotten a box packed...). And when I was looking around this morning, I realized, I never really unpacked all that much. So, it may not really take that long....

But it's official. We're going back from whence we came. Only down the street a little. And this townhouse is a mirror image of the one we lived in last year. That's going to be weird for a minute.

Peng and I journeyed over to the local Greek Festival this afternoon, put on by one of the local Greek churches. It was reasonable. Not quite like the ones that populate the Chicagoland area, sadly (there were no thiples. And they drizzled honey sauce over the loukoumathes. How you gonna do us like that?). But it was enough to make me a little homesick... Oh, and I bought copies of their "award winning" cookbook for myself, my mom, and my nouna (Godmother). The woman who was checking us out was like, oh, I'm the co-editor, would you like me to sign them? I was like, uh, sure. So she inscribed every one of them. It was cute. And then gave me her home phone number in case I had trouble with any of the recipes. Which was adorable.

Alright, I'd better go get something done....

Yeah...

My day started thusly: The Tarheels won last night. I? Will confess to not caring enough to stay up and watch the game (I dunno, college ball was a lot more fun when I knew the guys on the court). So my day started shortly after midnight when my neighborhood erupted. People screaming, horns honking, and this freakin' news helicopter hovering over my house. I was not pleased. Some of us get up really damn early, people! I woke up a couple more times overnight, but, sadly, NOT when I was SUPPOSED to be up this morning. So I overslept, couldn't drag my ass out of bed when I did wake up, didn't shower...got coffee, went to work, and caught the Early AM Shuttle. Which, of course I was the last one on, and on the way out, my pager got stuck on the seat belt. And the case broke. Sending various things in various directions, and holding things up for several minutes while I groped on the floor of the van in the dark to find my pager.

I had a good therapy patient, and then a really annoying, chock-full Intake clinic (HATE Intake clinic), and then supervision, and then I made a break for it (as my afternoon was blissfully empty. My Tuesday afternoon clinic seems to be all feast or famine these days...the next few weeks aren't looking so hot) and went to Starbucks to spend a few more hours documenting. Whee.

By the time I made it to the gym a little after 5, I really wanted to hit things. Thirty minutes on the treadmill, then the elliptical, then the treadmill again did not help my mood much. But my rescheduled-rescheduled (and actually, I rescheduled it again, from this afternoon to tonight) session with my trainer helped. We did this circuit training thing that was all like running around, back and forth, ADD-like. It hurt (my knee is still sore), but for some reason or another after about five minutes it really amused me. Which was useful when he accidentally smacked me in the face with a resistance band.

I went to the Lowes Foods on the way home, forgot more things, and bought hamburger I intended to cook for dinner...except I got distracted by something shiny and forgot to buy anything to go with that (like, you know, buns).

::sigh::

But now I'm home, and showered, and dude, it's so time for bed (it's like 11:30. Fortunately, my Wednesdays start late). Oh, and hey, here's some good news - my cousin's husband's nephew, Sebastian, has his very own Comedy Central special this Saturday (details here). I think it's his second one, actually. Watch! Laugh! Enjoy!

Muddled

So....you ever have one of those days where there's just SO MUCH STUFF swimming around in your head that nothing cogent will come out?

No? Oh. Well, I'm having one of them.

Had intended to fly to the coast today, but it was foggy and there were too many people on the plane so I offered to not fly in the little tin can. It was a nice drive, actually. Foggy. I went out with one of the nurses, we found two of our four people, I was done by 1. Got some lunch, swung back, went to the gym. Had a pretty crappy workout - still trying to figure out all the reasons why. Came home, though, had a nice cuddle with my dog, and you know...that makes a lot of things all better.

So does a good night's sleep. I'm going to go pretend I might get one....

Up and down

It's been a day...

So I went to see my trainer this morning. He kicked my ass. KICKED my ass. I was a little whiny, and kept losing my balance (and dropped a 5 lb medicine ball on my head, but that's another story entirely. I'm not always sure why he puts up with me...I mean, except for the fact that I'm paying him to do so). But we get to the last set of exercises, these inclined crunches alternating with a set of twisty things...and I'm doing the twisty things, and I was like...oh.....shit. I'm gonna throw up. Like, now. Gonna vomit.

So we stopped, two sets from the end. I could barely talk for trying to keep down what little breakfast I'd had. Gomer says, you need to eat something.

I would've laughed at him if I hadn't thought it would guarantee that I'd puke on his shoes.

He says, you need to eat something. Do you have anything? I shook my head, because, you know, see above, re: shoes.

So he goes into his desk and hands me a banana. I shake my head again. He says, really. Eat the banana. You'll feel better instantly. Eat the banana.

(Freud would have something to say about this.)

(Freud would have even more to say about the fact that it worked like a charm.)

Like a charm. I finally got a couple bites of banana down and was like...oh....that IS better.

I was telling this story to my friend, a family doc, whom I had lunch with, and she was like, duh, your blood sugar dropped. But it came on so suddenly. And I wasn't shaky or anything beforehand. And, and, and....

(No. Seriously. Duh.)

But, in better news, I had a lovely lunch with a good friend. It was delightful. She's in private practice now, and paints a wonderful picture of life in the real world. Plus, the food was good. And Maggie may have a new puppy play date.

In less better news, though, I sent my dad to the ER, because he's sick, although, he probably just has the flu (they sent him home after a really looooong wait). And Little Maxine is spending the night with us, which is nice. But she had a little seizure, which was a little scary. It's not the first one she's had, but it is the first time that's happened with us. Maggie was ALL OVER HER - so worried. Poor little bit. She's fine, though (and Maggie and I have recovered, too).

So, tomorrow, back to work. It's going to be a busy week, and then I'm on call on Saturday. Bleh.

We're all going to pile on the bed and have a rest....