Because everything feels so so so unreal right now, I haven't wanted to post anything. It all feels like an elaborate lie to me. I never, ever thought that I would have the life I have right now.
We live in a beautiful apartment that overlooks the Delaware, and the Ben Franklin Bridge is just chilling there outside my upstairs windows. Our house is modern, spacious and flooded with natural light all day long. We are almost completely unpacked, and what gets me is that our eclectic mishmash of furniture looks almost like it's been holding it's breath to be here. Things that looked drab before look like they were carefully selected for the space they inhabit now. Our things fit here, because we fit here.
We have a gorgeous Great Dane puppy who's sole job is to introduce us to our neighbors, who have been kind and open in accepting us into their hood. They hang out on their stoops instead of their back yards, and so everyone knows everyone in a way that no one in our last neighborhood did. Every morning, Cocomaus plays with her dog friend Emmett on the sidewalk, and J (Emmett's human) and I drink coffee and talk about whatever springs to mind. She's still being potty trained, and she's still learning manners. But honestly, she's incredibly jovial, flexible and easy to train.
D has a great private school, A is still in flux, but services are starting to roll for him and I feel like everything is going to be ok there. They'll start summer camp next week. They've already started free swimming lessons at the Swimmo, the public pool that is literally across the street. There is so much for them to do here that I doubt we will ever see all of it before we leave for residency.
I start school for real in 35 days. I start my summer program in a week. Here's where I gotta get real with everyone. The next eight years of my life will be physically and emotionally some of the hardest years I've ever had. Here comes the math. Each week has 168 hours in it. I need an average of 6 hours of sleep every night or I go tharn, so 168 - 42 = 126. I've promised the kids a measly 20 hours of my time/week, so that leaves 106 hours. Commuting with take another 6 hours, leaving me with 100 hours. I'll need to do at least 5 hours of exercise per week, so that's 95 hours left. And I know this for a fact: School itself will take up 80 hours of each week, more if there are exams. Yep, lots of people can get away with less, goody for them. That leaves me 15 hours to shower, eat, write, drink coffee, stare into space, have husband time, walk my dog, do laundry, clean the bathroom, grocery shop, go to parent/teacher conferences, help with homework, pay the bills, decide what to wear every day and talk to friends and family.
From my previous experience, I know that some of my friends will think I'm a selfish douche because I can't spend an hour hashing over their relationship issues. And I know that some members of my family will believe that I don't love them anymore because I seldom call. Some people will think I'm a horrible parent, or a stuck up, self absorbed bitch. The last time, I took all that to heart and tried to accommodate everyone because mostly, I didn't want you to think badly of me and I didn't want you to feel bad, either. This time I won't. I'm trying to be a physician to people who need it the most. I'm trying to change the face of healthcare. The only way to do that is to have my life be subsumed by my education. and therefore be a person interrupted. If you ask for more than I can give, you won't get it and I won't apologize. I'm not being cold. I'm doing what I came here to do. I'm doing the thing that makes me feel completely alive.
There are fish everywhere - engraved in the sidewalks, hanging from doorways. I love this place.