Saturday, January 24, 2009

Crying for cats

I'm back in Birmingham, only until tomorrow night, getting over my cold and post-residency exhaustion with lots of sleep and premium television.

On my way home from residency, I got stuck in Philadelphia. No one was nice to me -- not US Airways, not the TWO Quality Inns who failed to pick me up, not the ghosts who tease me in that city.

A call to a friend reminded me that this kind of delay can be an adventure. Thank you, friend.

When the Ramada shuttle driver swept me away from waiting for the questionable Quality, I went. I washed my socks and underwear in the sink. Ate the second half of the Snickers bar I had for lunch. Watched the end of Juno and cried. Watched a depressing documentary about a man who lost everything he loved in life (Cat Dancers) and cried. And it felt really good.

I love going to school. I hate leaving school. By the end of residency, I feel like my brain's been sucked out and replaced by marshmallows. Really stupid, emotional marshmallows. So crying for a weird man who danced with cats was cathartic.

Just read Need by VCFA alum Carrie Jones. The butt-kicking heroine and her growly boyfriend made my plane travel woes much more palatable. Thank you, Carrie.


Anonymous said...

I would have been nice to you. :)


Rachel Wilson said...

I know you would! I almost called you, but I was so tired I wouldn't have been any fun . . . Funny maybe, but not fun.

Kristin said...

I have decided that USAirways is run by the devil. I hope that you don't mind that I found my way to your blog from facebook. I enjoy hearing of your life and adventures.

Rachel Wilson said...

No, of course I don't mind! I love it!