This week ended with a hellish bang. Yesterday I was slapped with a presentation to do at grand rounds on Wednesday (a big deal that includes ALL attendings, residents, etc). I freaked out because I've never done this before, but I know it will be good practice for my oral presentation at the end of surgery... a day I wish was yesterday.
To cool off I went to the sox game with a couple of colleagues, Torch and A-train, and of course RedSox. We had a great time and once again, I was pretty drunk after one glass of wine... but I still had a second glass just to seal the deal.
RedSox left for Chicago this morning, and I went home. Just as I was about to enter my apartment building, Roomate called. I told her I was about to walk in, so I went to straight to her room.
She tells me that she's moving out at the end of the month (12 days).
I felt like I had been slapped in the face. We haven't had the best relationship since she came back from Sweden. I've been at the hospital. She has been at her internship. On the weekends I am with RedSox and she is with her boyfriend. I figured things would get better once she started back up with school.
I tried not to flip out. She told me she would pay rent until October. That's fine, but I don't have time to replace her. I asked her for help looking for a new roomate, so she agreed to come up with a CL ad but I should be the one to interview people. Great. I have one hour between coming home and going to sleep. That is exactly what I want to do with my time... especially when I need to study.
I went to my mom's office to start preparing my presentation. I called my parents and broke down. I hate crying, but I just can't take this anymore.
My parents told me not to get a new roomate or even think about it until surgery is done. If I want to live alone, I can. My mom actually wants me to live alone so she can sleepover occasionally. I felt better.
My sister called me and gave me an exact outline for my presentation. How to present, what to say, everything. Phew!
Now that I have calmed down enough to think, I can't help but still feel like I'm getting slapped in the face. There is still a long road ahead of me and my group of friends is dwindling.
I think I need an ice pack.
Saturday, 18 August 2007
Does my face say "slap me"?
Posted on 10:18 by Unknown
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