Monday, March 01, 2004
Fatal Exceptions
I made a fatal error yesterday.
I switched my computer off. It's gone back to refusing to come back on.
Methinks I'll take it back home with me this march and overhaul it.
In other news, today has dawned unnaturally sunny. It's a strange country, is england. The air is oh, so cold - cold enough that snow left on the sidewalks in shadow remains frozen. But in the absence of a breeze, the sunlight - low on the horizon, and strangely penetrating - warms the skin. It leaves one feeling slightly thermally confused. Especially when stepping into the leas of tall buildings, then back out into the full unbridled force of the sun.
A night shift tonight, then another day off. I love my rota.
To be honest, A&E has been such a wonderful change from the mundanity of daily brain-numbing ward-rounds. And it's been exciting, and a great learning opportunity. And I'm almost good at it now. But perhaps the time has come to move on, and I'm ready. To face the rest of my life with ward-rounds. And tediously long theatre sessions. Now I just need someone to bloody accept my application...
*********
Last night, another experience. Eating dinner with a friend and her newly-acquired partner, I observed with amusement his occasionally slightly touchy-feely interaction with her - where her previous partner had been a little bit of the opposite persuasion. Cultural differences, I suppose.
And predictably, I was thrown back to another time. My life seems to be increasingly filled with flashbacks. Perhaps it's my subconscious working against me, trying to surreptitiously slip a note under my nose onto the cluttered workdesk of my daily waking life.
I remembered. Another meal, with similarly ubiquitous food. And another couple, Her, and Her bloke. I remembered Him trying to feed Her in front of me. Then, it felt forced, sort of an ownership thing. (Nothing like last night, which this story is in no way meant to relate to, except from the starting point of a reawakened memory) I remembered the look in Her eyes as her entire body reacted. I remembered the subtle but furious refusal. I remembered Her face. Priceless.
I remembered what happened after that too.
And part of me still laughs at the memory. And part of me grieves that my memories are limited, and fading.
And part of me wants to see You again.
And part of me doesn't, but why - the rest of me doesn't know. Or rather, refuses to let me know.
It's always confusing, living between two times, a memory burning so vividly in your mind that you can almost reach out and touch it. And yet, from a distance, another life occurring, to which you have to smile automatically, and pull yourself back to occasionally to make the odd witty one-liner expected of you. Or to just be disagreeably acerbic, which is also usually expected of me.
I stood in front of a wall in my flat yesterday, just for a short while, where a couch used to sit. And I remembered You.
Just for an instant.
We wouldn't have danced. I wouldn't have agreed to it, either.
Time moves inexorably on. It's not time that's a funny thing. It's humanity.
********
In still other news, I'm feeling slightly betrayed today. Nothing important, and it might have stopped at the appropriate time. In fact, I'm confident it would have. But you should have told me first. I suppose it must be hard for you, given all that we'd been through, and all that we didn't, after. I don't really know what happened to you either in the end. I seem to be good at losing touch with people; especially people who don't want to keep in touch.
But if you had only asked, first, I might have given you everything. I still will - just ask. Or don't. It's yours.
*********
I don't know why I do this either. But to any of you reading this, who know me. Any of you at all. Whatever became of Her? I'd genuinely like to know.
I made a fatal error yesterday.
I switched my computer off. It's gone back to refusing to come back on.
Methinks I'll take it back home with me this march and overhaul it.
In other news, today has dawned unnaturally sunny. It's a strange country, is england. The air is oh, so cold - cold enough that snow left on the sidewalks in shadow remains frozen. But in the absence of a breeze, the sunlight - low on the horizon, and strangely penetrating - warms the skin. It leaves one feeling slightly thermally confused. Especially when stepping into the leas of tall buildings, then back out into the full unbridled force of the sun.
A night shift tonight, then another day off. I love my rota.
To be honest, A&E has been such a wonderful change from the mundanity of daily brain-numbing ward-rounds. And it's been exciting, and a great learning opportunity. And I'm almost good at it now. But perhaps the time has come to move on, and I'm ready. To face the rest of my life with ward-rounds. And tediously long theatre sessions. Now I just need someone to bloody accept my application...
*********
Last night, another experience. Eating dinner with a friend and her newly-acquired partner, I observed with amusement his occasionally slightly touchy-feely interaction with her - where her previous partner had been a little bit of the opposite persuasion. Cultural differences, I suppose.
And predictably, I was thrown back to another time. My life seems to be increasingly filled with flashbacks. Perhaps it's my subconscious working against me, trying to surreptitiously slip a note under my nose onto the cluttered workdesk of my daily waking life.
I remembered. Another meal, with similarly ubiquitous food. And another couple, Her, and Her bloke. I remembered Him trying to feed Her in front of me. Then, it felt forced, sort of an ownership thing. (Nothing like last night, which this story is in no way meant to relate to, except from the starting point of a reawakened memory) I remembered the look in Her eyes as her entire body reacted. I remembered the subtle but furious refusal. I remembered Her face. Priceless.
I remembered what happened after that too.
And part of me still laughs at the memory. And part of me grieves that my memories are limited, and fading.
And part of me wants to see You again.
And part of me doesn't, but why - the rest of me doesn't know. Or rather, refuses to let me know.
It's always confusing, living between two times, a memory burning so vividly in your mind that you can almost reach out and touch it. And yet, from a distance, another life occurring, to which you have to smile automatically, and pull yourself back to occasionally to make the odd witty one-liner expected of you. Or to just be disagreeably acerbic, which is also usually expected of me.
I stood in front of a wall in my flat yesterday, just for a short while, where a couch used to sit. And I remembered You.
Just for an instant.
We wouldn't have danced. I wouldn't have agreed to it, either.
Time moves inexorably on. It's not time that's a funny thing. It's humanity.
********
In still other news, I'm feeling slightly betrayed today. Nothing important, and it might have stopped at the appropriate time. In fact, I'm confident it would have. But you should have told me first. I suppose it must be hard for you, given all that we'd been through, and all that we didn't, after. I don't really know what happened to you either in the end. I seem to be good at losing touch with people; especially people who don't want to keep in touch.
But if you had only asked, first, I might have given you everything. I still will - just ask. Or don't. It's yours.
*********
I don't know why I do this either. But to any of you reading this, who know me. Any of you at all. Whatever became of Her? I'd genuinely like to know.
