My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
It occurred to me over the weekend that my recent performance problems at Big City Hospital are to do with the volume of stress currently circulating in my life. I've put in for some time off, citing a need to revise for finals...which certainly is true. That's stressor #1, I reckon. I must make a score of 87 or higher to earn an A for the class...an A I so desperately desire.
Stressor #2: The project I've been overseeing for months is just about to fail. I've known it was going to happen for some time, but stayed optimistic. Our deadline is about to arrive and we have some major pieces missing. I feel like a lot of it is my fault. However, I think that I've done rather well considering the amount of leadership experience of this magnitude that I've had going into the project (none). In the coming weeks, I'm going to have to make a phone call that will make me feel three feet tall.
Stressor #3: The flat is a complete disaster. Party Boy is the individual responsible, as always...but he's outdone himself. Photographic evidence shall appear in the coming days on Living With Pigs. Let us all take a moment to pray that it will be the final update on that blog.
The rest are hardly worth mentioning.
I set my mind on sorting myself out after realising what was going wrong. Bright and early this morning I set aside half an hour for rigourous exercise. Pencilling in another half an hour later today, and continuing the trend indefinitely. Surely, the lack of exercise recently has been a major factor in my poor performance in almost all important areas of my life.
Furthermore, my diet is undergoing some changes as well. For the longest, I was the healthiest eater you'd ever want to come across. Sometime during the spring term, odd bits and pieces of junk food seeped into my diet, mainly for their convenience. Increasingly, I turned to these items without paying it much mind. At the grocer's Friday, I noticed my cart contained two bags of chips, two boxes of high-fat cookies, frozen dinners (Kashi, but still...), etc. I put most of it back and shopped like I used to. Fresh meats, vegetables, and fruits, whole wheat bread, and so on. Three days it's been now that I've reformed my diet, and I'm already feeling a bit better. Could just be a mental thing. Doesn't much matter!
Party Boy II, who I'd given a nicer nickname (now forgotten), moved out over the weekend. As the date approached, I thought how funny it was that I was sad to see him go. This time one year ago, I was dreading living with him. He was wild and out of control, at least according the the accounts of his nights posted on a social networking site. When I moved in, he lived up to the reputation for the majority of the autumn term. However, he got quite serious with a young lady and that mellowed him right out. He's still with her and whereas once he was an irresponsible party machine, he's now a focused, serious student who knows precisely where he wants to go. So glad to see that transformation. He's a good kid and I hope that he achieves all that he desires and more.
Still not sure how I'm feeling about a career in medicine. Really not thinking much about it...I'm going to wait until the fog I'm in blows over and go from there.
May the grace of He keep you always,