I have embarked on becoming a physician assistant because apparently I think I am smart. I really just think I'm a damn good actress that fooled a lot of people. I sit in my class everyday soaking up thousands of little bits of information concerning the human body in hopes that one day I might even be able to pronounce it, let a lone recognize it and actually help someone. There is so much data cramming into my neurons, the little person in my head that sits back off to the side and is amazed at it all. Now this side person, I'm convinced, is a product of my sheer loneliness. She needs a name, for she's somewhat stylish and pretty funny. Come to think of it, she reminds me of my former self. But I digress. Many of my fellow students have felt the same sentiment. One girl wanted a cat so she'd have someone around. Another one admitted to talking to pictures of her friends. So really, having this imaginary person to talk to in my head doesn't seem so crazy.
I think she's stylish because she wears cute outfits, much unlike myself these days. I was so used to buying fun, professional attire. Now that I am just wear jeans and tee shirts, I feel like everyday is the first day of my period. Or that maybe I was kidnapped as a child and raised by bums. Either way, I feel pretty not pretty. This person in my mind is also pretty amusing. She tells good jokes. Everything in class is so serious, so detrimental, so pertinent. It was beyond old after the first week. I'm tired of everything being a flipping emergency, like the western hemisphere is going to burn down if someone gets a B because they didn't know that diarrhea was a side effect of some obscure tropical disease.
At home, I am a wife. I think. This new abode I live in was his prior to the wedding and some days I feel as if I live at a hotel only without the maid service. I'm not very good at cooking or cleaning, but I try in between paragraphs of human behavior and power naps on the kitchen table. The laundry room looks like downtown Beirut. I have so many clothes missing, I swear the lawn guy comes in the house and shops in my closet for his wife. Its the only explanation I can come up with for the missing athletic shorts, white dress trousers and black flats. Whoever has them looks really good from the waist down. I'm also in charge of grocery shopping. Currently we have chocolate soy milk, an over-ripe avocado, some spaghetti sauce and pretzel sticks. Apparently grocery shopping requires an unoccupied brain. We eat out a lot.
So needless to say, life has gone from one kind of crazy to another. Instead of a year planning for massive change, its a new year of coping with its aftermath. It's trying to keep up while finding moments to relax/silence my brain. Sleep is a hot commodity. Its figuring out my new role as a wife, sister, in-law, and roommate while creating another as a student and medical practitioner. It's exercising all morning just to eat it all back on trying to stay awake while reading physiology. So really, there's no figment, there's just the apparition of my former life I'm clinging to for some means of stability. And I feel its only fair I get to post up a little bit of neuroticism every now and again.
