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1st November 2010



~Had left over apple crisp for breakfast. Mmmmm….
~Arrived to work at the same time as one of the neurology residents, so got to leisurely huff and puff my way up the stairs with her (those stairs are STEEP).
~Since she didn’t know where the resident workroom was, I walked her there and was greeted by my intern from last month, who is also on neuro consults. Aww, I’ve missed him! Love starting a day with a hug. ๐Ÿ™‚ I’m looking forward to having a semi-regular lunch partner.
~Ran into one of the boys from church in the hall. As I was bored with the conversation between my attending and fellow (it had been ongoing for several minutes), I stopped to say hi. No hug but a big smile. Happiness.
~Ran into one of my medicine friends; she’s the resident over one of the teams that I’ll be working with. We caught up on how the little plant we bought last year has died. ๐Ÿ™
~The new pulmonary fellow is not quite as overwhelming of a jerk as the guy I worked with for a couple of days last week. I was about ready to slit my throat. Or quit. This guy seems at least willing to share the workload, so the day went much, much better.
~Came home and made the roasted vegetable minestrone soup and totally burned the vegetables. I think it still tastes good, just a little more carcinogenic. ๐Ÿ™‚
~As I sat down to dinner, received a call from my other intern from last month inviting me to dinner. So instead, I had sushi. Cooked sushi (I have to be in a particular tummy mindset to tolerate raw) and good conversation capped my day.

It’s the 199th anniversary of the publication of Sense and Sensibility. I probably will forget to memorialize it next year, so I’m sharing my favorite quote (or at least, it’s the quote that is speaking to me the most right now):

“Dear, dear Norland,” said Elinor, “probably looks much as it always does at this time of the year. The woods and walks thickly covered with dead leaves.”
“Oh,” cried Marianne, “with what transporting sensation have I formerly seen them fall! How have I delighted, as I walked, to see them driven in showers about me by the wind! What feelings have they, the season, the air altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard them. They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off, and driven as much as possible from the sight.”
“It is not every one,” said Elinor, “who has your passion for dead leaves.”

Only my maple tree still clings to its leaves, so alas, my love for dead leaves will also have to end soon. Ah, Wisconsin, you and I have certainly had a passionate love affair this year! I may have to try to arrange for one more tryst before winter blankets you with snow….

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