when the working day is done
Who says that residents don't know how to have a good time? (Uh, me.) Went to Tammy and Grace's house this evening for dinner and wine. Maria brought Cuban cigars. I brought cheese. I played with their cat, and now Cooper is sniffing at me suspiciously, like I cheated on her. I wish I could have stayed longer, but I'm on call in the NICU tomorrow, and I had to get home so that I could sleep and charge the old battery.
I can't wait. Four more days until vacation! 50 hours of which will be spent on call! They're really making me work for it, see.
The bad news is that on my way to Tammy's house, I lost my wallet. In typical hoarder style, I had everything in my wallet. Not that much cash, but bank card, learner's permit (no driver's license, remember), health insurance card, Blockbuster's membership. I would have retraced my steps, but I think I probably dropped it on the subway hurtling off towards the Bronx. It's gone, I've already relinquished all hopes of recovery. I cancelled everything right away, but with any luck, I'll at least get back the stuff without value--without value to anyone but me, that is. Unless someone tries to rent movies on our account. That would truly be insidious. Hmmm. Maybe I should cancel that card too.
Currently reading: Finishing "Singular Intimacies". Sometimes I think I'm really missing out, not working with adult patients. But most of the time, I'm thanking God for that very same fact.
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