…the almost right word

I spent almost two hours chatting online with an old friend today. Quite wonderful conversation about what’s real. I am high with excitement and butterflies. I love reconnecting (or just connecting in general) with people who really know me…people who really get me. Suddenly I am reminded of Miss A_ desperately.

You know, as overwhelming as my head can get, I feel so alive having these thoughts in it. It makes me feel that, even though I often believe I’m not taking advantage of life, I actually am. It is truly revolutionary.

I’ve been haunted by my dreams lately. They all involve my past. And my parents. And good friends. The therapist and I spent the whole hour talking about these dreams. And we will probably spend the next hour doing the same, because they keep coming…the dreams. And I most likely wake up sweating profusely and I anxiously await for my body temperature to decrease which then inevitably leads to the chills. Am I still on vicodin?

Oh yeah. I had surgery and finally took care of my hernia — it was pretty easy-going and I found the overall experience kind of…interesting. I like medicine, I think. 

I remember, vividly, the experience of getting my blood drawn every three months my freshman year. Yay genetics. I loved watching the nurse find my vein and pull the blood into the syringe. Having the surgery reminded me of that. In a good way. Of course there was some pain. And admittedly, some vicodin. But it wasn’t too terrible, and R_ was wonderful.

Perhaps I should have gone to medical school?