Working in the hospital feels surreal. At moments I am under water. There is a lot of saddness and horror there, and at moments I am overwhelmed with fear. These are fleeting moments - mostly I am fine but they leave a bad taste in my mouth. I was hoping that coming back here would make things better, would inspire me. It feels like I am not at my best in this environment. I wonder why I feel like I need to try to be. Maybe instead of inspiration to do this well I will be inspired not to do anything like this.
I rushed home to go for a run, like that might sweat away this feeling. It did and didn't. I wore my orthotics for the first time and I ran hard. I am pretty sure I pulled every muscle in my legs. Then I came home and put pizza in the oven, which was delicious, but I burned the roof of my mouth as a direct result of my impatience to eat. I feel lighter, but now I have a sore palate and legs.
I have to hop in the shower and get ready for my big date. I haven't forgotten about Simon, but I am kind of trying...kind of.