Oompa Loompa Dippity Doo

2003-01-03 - 3:53 p.m.

Today was my last day working on the MI service. I can't say I'm particularly sad to let it go, but I did enjoy it while I was doing it, most of the time. It was a good service. I found out today that I will be starting on SGI on Monday. SGI is also known as GI surgery. Or TPNs galore. I'm a little nervous to go there. If I wasn't so darn stupid it would be a different story. Maybe I'll bring something to study while I'm working ops on Sunday so that I'll be all knowledgeable come Monday. Ah well, it will all work out, right?

In my previous entry I wrote several questions to my readers. The thing is, I didn't think I actually had any readers. The fact that not only do I have readers, but I have international readers who are willing to take the time to answer my questions makes me really happy. So I'm going to do a little experiment here to see if the advice of my international readers is in fact correct. So click here to find the reader that was so generous with her time and advice.

The answer to my other question about why the rest of the world finds the U.S. to be less than lovable was, according to Shadie, that we give off the impression that we own the world. Yes, I can see how others would think that. Sometimes I think that myself. If we just pulled back all our fingers and let the rest of the world do its own thing, would the world really blow up? I have no idea. I don't even know how many fingers we have, let alone what they are doing, how many holes they are plugging in dams, or how many sores they are keeping open.

I'm going to Flik's house this afternoon. I told her I wouldn't be leaving here until 5 because I don't usually get done before then. Last time I didn't get finished until after 6. It was crazy. Today, though, I was done by 3:30. I don't want to be one of those people who is the first one at the party and the last one to leave, so I'm hanging out here at the hospital library until the prescribed time. It will put me into rush hour traffic, but oh well. I have my books on tape to listen to in the car. I'm listening to "Nightshade" right now, by John Saul. It's not my thing. It's too eery. I don't like to hear about evil ghosts of dead aunts that make kids shoot their dads. And speaking of books, I didn't win the BookCrossing contest. Some dude from Oklahoma won it. Oh well. It was sort of fun anyway.

There's something else I really want to talk about, but I don't know how or even if I should. I did a fairly decent job of hurting someone yesterday. I didn't want to hurt him, but I didn't see any way around it. It's the second time I've done this in the last three months. I have to think this one wasn't as bad as the last one. Ok, for those of you who are clueless, I met a guy online in July or August. We've talked online just about every night between now and then. We had about a million things in common and had a lot of fun in our online discussions. We thought there was the possibility of more. In early December I went on a business trip to Atlanta and he flew there to meet me. We spent three days together. I had fun. He was great. But it just wasn't it. There are some things that just don't come through over the internet or over the phone. There are some things that need a personal touch. It wasn't his looks, I had seen pictures. It wasn't his voice, we had talked on the phone. It wasn't his thoughts, we had done a good deal of exchanging of thoughts before then. It wasn't his personality, I had quite a bit of experience with that before meeting him, too. So what was it? I don't know how else to describe it other than as a "lack of sparkage." It just wasn't it. I wanted it to work. It could have been so nice. But it didn't. I am not ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the fact that it took me nearly a month to tell him so. I just didn't know how. Because for him, it worked. I didn't lie to him. I never told him I thought it would work out. But I didn't tell him I thought it wouldn't. I never said no. Until last night. And now I see him in pain. I want to comfort him. I want to be a shoulder to cry on. But how can I be when I am the source of the pain? Is my presence salt in the wound? I don't know. I wish I did.