maybe i could borrow Occam's razor.

week something. day something.

where to start...where to start.

i am not happy with myself. i am not entirely certain that i want to be here right now. i am not entirely certain that being somewhere else would help.

i wish i could say that school's overwhelmingly hard. it's not. i don't mean that in an uppity 'i'm the smartest person ever' way--really i don't. i sleep more now than ever before--a 100% increase from undergrad and a 1000% increase from high school. i've seen a good majority of the material that we're doing now and anything new just seems mundane. no longer am i excited for new information. i don't study with reckless abandon for hours on end. a far cry from the nerd i knew and loved. i moved here with the thought that being a doctor was my ultimate match. Doubt has crept in, unwelcome, from time to time. Doubt, then, is followed soon after by Guilt. after all, i'm taking up a spot that could have been filled by some one equally capable and less uncertain.

i wish i could say that all i needed was a good hug/vent/night out/night in/ice cream/run in the rain/vacation/girlie movie/song/home-cooked meal. nope. i fear that whatever has gone wrong is past repair via the old reliable remedies. it seems a little deeper--what billy collins might be referring to as 'a kind of measles of the spirit, a mumps of the psyche, a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.' how's that for emo?

how does a girl that was so sure of who she was, what she wanted, and how to get it become reduced to such a pitiless, cowering bundle? moreover, how does she fix it if indeed it can be fixed? and finally, what does she do in the meantime?


saving grace.




it seems only yesterday i used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
if you cut me i could shine.
but now when i fall upon the sidewalks of life,
i skin my knees. i bleed.

~on turning ten, billy collins