The doctor I reported to died last week.
He had cancer.
I still don’t feel like it’s real.
He had the kindest soul. I can’t imagine what his family is going through. His three sons, his wife.
Another doctor I work with called me this afternoon and practically begged me not to leave. Word must have gotten around about the job interview I had, but not the rejection.
I feel horribly guilty that I have another job interview this week at an outside organization. I didn’t say anything
But I can’t do this anymore.
I want to think and talk about something besides my job. I’m not that girl anymore.
You can be the kindest, most hard-working person and you’re still gonna die with regret. I don’t want that as much as I can help it. I want quiet in my head and dreams that don’t fill me with dread every night. I want something to tend to that doesn’t take from me without anything to give.
I wish it could be different, so I’m going to be like Picard and make it so.
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