<<reverse | forward>> | index | beginning
New Year, Shnew Year

Sat, Jan 05, 2002 03:21PM -0600

It is raining outside. Not snowing, but raining. Nothing I hate more than cold, cold rain. The temperature is hovering above freezing as if just to piss me off.

So now I have decided to try and relax for a while and reflect a little--peeling one layer at a time (and I am reminded about that metaphor in "Shrek": Ogres are like onions....) There are too many little things I need to take care of, chewing up my time, and I'm finding I don't have time to study, and I barely have time to just sit and think. I don't know why I have this feeling that if I don't finish all these little things, I can't even begin to start on the big things. (After all, it took me at least a year to figure out that big things are really just a collection of little things conveniently bundled up so as to look more menacing, but that's another topic entirely.)

In any case, here is a list of the tasks that are bothering me now:

  • Last month, because of my inattention, inexperience with dealing with salesman, and plain stupidity, I ended up signing up for rustproofing and paint protection for my new car. Fifteen minutes later as I drove up the Eden's Expressway, I realized that I fell for the oldest trick in the book, and have rued it ever since, and I have this sinking feeling that there's no way I can get my money back (and it is a good chunk of change) and I really don't know how to deal with them. They told me I can cancel it for a ridiculous sum of money (more than half of what the package cost in the first place) but I really can't afford to be going down there multiple times during rush hour traffic in order to get it done, and the terms on the warranty are really abyssmal anyway, and I am just pissed at myself and the universe right now, but I want at least some of my money back! (Estimated completion time: when Hell freezes over)
  • I can't find the title to my old car (which is sitting dead in the parking lot.) My room is a godforsaken mess which, and I can't seem to clean it up at all. Every time I make partial progress, the next day it is somehow messier than before, and I am probably going to have to tear my room apart to find that stupid title. And I am horrified at the possibility that I may have thrown it away carelessly, which means that I will have to plunk down $65 to get a duplicate title just so I can give it away to the American Cancer Society, for which I can't get a tax write-off because I don't pay any taxes anyway. Oh well. At least it's a good cause. If I can ever find my title. (Estimated completion time: 2-3 months)
  • I still haven't signed up for the Boards. I don't even want to talk about how I ended up in this position. (Estimated completion time: by Wednesday, do or die. Seriously. Because otherwise I am SCREWED.)
  • I have eight H&Ps (histories and physicals for all you non-healthcare types--hehe) to write up and I was supposed to do them over break. Right. (Estimated completion time: when they make me, but each one will probably take about an hour to an hour-and-a-half. So if I do them instead of sleeping two nights, it might actually happen...)
  • I have to go see the doctor because I am experiencing all these strange little problems that seriously freak me out, and you would think that being in med school, it wouldn't, but that actually makes it worse. (A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, I suppose.) Honestly though, I know this sounds terrible, and forgive me for saying it (but it's true), but I might actually be relieved if they find something. But in any case, I have to get my PPD (tuberculosis skin test) done, so I might as well have them check me out. (Estimated completion time: I have an appointment on Monday at 1pm)

So I suppose that doesn't look as terrible as it seems, now that I've written it out. I mean, it still all pretty much sucks, and I know for a fact that I've left out the even more trivial things, and I haven't even begun to mention the fact that I have to study for finals which are coming in three weeks.

Derailed by a phone call. I must vent.

So what was I bitching about?

Never mind. Seriously. This is not how I want to live my life, constantly stressed out by minor irritating problems. I need a personal valet or something.

I will continue to reflect later. In the mean time, I must roll up my sleeves and dig into the mush pile once more....

<<reverse | forward>> | index | beginning