Yesterday was pretty terrible.
My schedule was jammed with patients (mostly tele, some not) and for reasons that are not entirely blog appropriate, the day just felt overwhelmingly difficult. My office is tiny and when I work with a resident it feels claustrophobic (no, we are not 6 feet apart, nor do I have any viable alternatives). Try as I might (and I did try!) I could not keep up with my notes AND teach a brand new resident AND respond to seemingly urgent GME-related requests AND act as my own medical assistant.
Once I was home (and the kids were on screens because I had zero energy left for them) I found myself obsessively playing with FI calculators to figure out when Josh and I could both retire (turns out if one lowers spending to Mustachian or even POF levels, retirement could be . . . pretty soon. Though that depends on the world economy surviving and I am not sure that’s a given).
FL (and US) cases are surging and — at least from today’s vantage point — I do not see how this can possibly end well for our country (or the world).
Even my beautiful bullet journal could not bring me out of my funk, which is unusual.
ANYWAY. I would love to say I am feeling better this morning, but beginning a week of call never puts me in a good mood (though this particular call week is actually “call lite”, where another physician covers all nights & the holiday weekend. Something to be grateful for!).
Still grateful. Still aware of my capital-P Privilege. And still not afraid to say that — from my vantage point — yesterday sucked. Hopefully today will be better.
PS: I wish I could blame this on hormones, but thanks to the magic of the pharmaceutical industry I am pretty sure my levels have been quite stable. And in actuality as miserable as this post is, I still feel about 84242 times better than when I was dealing with those swings.