March 25th, 2008


I wonder if working in a hazmat suit would help...

I think I should make this update now, because I have a feeling that as soon as I go back to work, the whole point of it might dissapear.

The last few days I've been amazed that I felt ... content with my lot in life. Mellow. Generally good.
I've worked my shift on Good Friday without ripping anyone's head of. I haven't thought about becoming a hermit for over a week. I'm still crushing a bit on the Stupid Crush, but accept it and deal with it and don't see it as the end of the world. I still have no clue what I'm going to do in five months time, but I'm not panicking, but thinking whatever happens, I'm just going to roll with the punches.

And that's not some strange new kind of behaviour, it's how I used to behave and feel all the time.

Given the fact that I've been grumpy and whiny and generally pissed off constantly for a couple of months now, I don't think that this is caused by anything hormonal. I rather think it's the clinic. Thinking back, I've barely been away from there for the occasional two day weekend at the most since last summer.
The last two weeks I've been only there seven times and only four of them for longer than two hours. Instead I've been home and working on my diss, which hasn't fazed me unexpectedly much (it's a diss, making me want to tear my hair out is a requirement).
I think this was really healthy.

I love my work and I love my colleagues, but the atmosphere at the clinic is close to toxic.

And now I'll have to go back there. Ave Caesar, mori turi te salutant I guess.
But I'm going to try and hold on to this contentment as long as possible. There has to be a way to do that. After all, my role in life is being the sensible one, not the drama queen.