An Interesting Week

So my boyfriend and I severed ties this week and it's been an interesting mix of emotions. On the one hand, it's nice to have my space back and to feel a sense of independence again. If I want to stay up 'til 5 AM and watch a movie, then I can. The little things that irritated me about living with someone else are gone - bad bathroom furnishing choices, coming home to find socks, water bottles, and other stuff strewn all over the apartment, trash cans full. On the flip side, it is very quiet and lonely. One thing I am taking away from this experience is that I'm not sure I'm good at living with someone else that I care about. My friend Chuck and his partner Mark have always had separate homes and it seems to work well for them. I guess it's an issue of me being quirky and liking my space. Only thing with that is, Northern California does not lend itself to cheap living arrangements.

I had coffee with a very nice guy, a friend of a friend. It felt really strange. I think it was too soon. My wounds haven't quite healed and I'm still feeling raw and sad on some levels. I tend to be dramatic about certain things (my mother's side of the family is kinda OCD), so it comes out at times like these. I've been feeling like drunk Charlotte from Sex and the City in the episode where they're returning home from Staten Island on the ferry. (Season 3, episode 31 for all of you who want to go rewatch it.) It's freezing, they're sitting outside, and Charlotte is completely wasted. Then suddenly, she looks at Carrie, sobers up and says, "Carrie, where is he? All I want to do is get married. I've been dating for x amount of years and I'm tired and lonely. WHERE IS HE?" I don't know that I'm quite that dramatic, but it certainly does feel that way. It's as if I keep getting puppies from the pound that look really cute, but end up having major issues that don't clique with my particular ones. After a while, you don't even feel like looking anymore.

Happy Veteran's Day weekend to all, especially my dad and brother who both served in the Navy and my friend Christi, also a Navy girl. I caught an episode of Baghdad ER on HBO this week. It's like watching an episode of China Beach, only it is a documentary and it is real. I've always been interested in medicine, so the medical aspect of the show is very interesting to me. At the same point, when you see a 20 year old American kid dying from an IED explosion it really hits home. The operating rooms operate 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The amputation scenes are incredibly graphic and gruesome. It seems completely surreal when a surgical tech picks up an amputated foot and puts it in a red biohazard bag. There's a certain reaction of "Wait, save that. A surgeon can reattach that!" followed by the sad reality that no, a surgeon cannot reattach that and the man or woman will never see his or her foot or arm again. There's always talk about the price of freedom. In the Civil War and World War II, thousands upon thousands of men died in single battles. We've had a couple of thousand die in the entire conflict thus far, but this show puts a name and a face to the injured and they are just kids. Innocent kids who deserve better and shouldn't have to be facing the prospect of spending the rest of their lives without an eye or a limb.

I picked up some overtime this week, so that has kept me busy. Each day on the job, I feel like I get a little bit better. This week we had a case that started out really bad, but had a happy ending. It felt good to be helping out in some small way.

That's about all from here. Working the weekend, ah so exciting.

Cuidate.