The security guards at the hospital entrance were unusually vigilant about checking IDs when I came in this morning. But really, would anyone come to the hospital at 6:30am on a Saturday morning unless they were contractually obligated to?
Coming on call this morning, I bumped into one of my classmates, who was just waking up.
So, how was your call last night?
It sucked, man. Sucks.
What, up all night?
No, I was in bed by 1am.
And now you have the rest of the weekend off.
Yeah, but it sucks, man.
Yeah, but at least you got a full night's sleep and you can enjoy the rest of your day. And you have all day tomorrow!
Yeah, but I'm still really tired. I got more sleep than I do when I'm at home, but I'm still tired. Fucking sucks, man.
I refrained from reminding him that the Friday call resident would have a hard time eliciting sympathy from the Saturday call resident, and that he should quit his whining because I would have loved to be on last night instead of tonight and had a call like his. But then I realized--I can't rob a fellow resident of the right to complain. Why, the right to complain is all we've got! We work our asses off ridiculously long hours for no money and under insane pressure, and for the most part, we publicly grin and bear it. But to each other, we bitch. We bitch about the big things and we bitch about the small things. The complaining in itself is the point. It is one of the small, sad ways that we can let off some steam. So bitch away, fellow residents! Bitch away!
(Saturday call sucks.)
Currently reading: The current issue of The New Yorker, and "Embroideries," the newest Marjane Satrapi offering. It's really just a trifle compared to "Persepolis," (in the spirit of the old school SAT analogies, "Embroideries is to "Persepolis" as "Small Time Crooks" is to "Crimes and Misdemeanors") but, you know, it's entertaining enough.
Currently dying to see: The new Harry Potter movie. I probably won't see it until it's out on DVD, though. Not because there isn't an opportunity or available babysitting, but because it's hard for me to think about wasting one of those precious weekend nights with Cal just to go to the stupid movies. (We did go see "The 40-year-Old Virgin" this summer, but that was when I was still on maternity leave, so baby time was not such a hot commodity.)
What's the deal with this movie version of "Rent" that's coming out now anyway? It could either be pretty good or really bad. Almost all of the original cast is in the movie, which is kind of cool, but how does that work, exactly? Aren't they too old? Isn't the point that it's supposed to be about people in their 20's? Are they going to be screeching "Seasons of Love" with, like, canes and walkers and stuff? (Yes, I know it was only ten years ago.) Still, the whole story is kind of dated, if for no other reason than that impoverished bohemians could afford to live on the Lower East Side of Manhattan.