Each time it appears, it delivers a kick to some part of my mind. "Wake up," it says. "I'm still here. Wake up and think about it. Think about why I'm still here." The kicking never hurts me. There's no pain at all. Just a hollow sound that echoes with each kick. And even that is bound to fade one day. At the Hamburg airport, though, the kicks were longer and harder than usual. Which is why I am writing this book. To think. To understand. It just happens to be the way I'm made. I have to write things down to feel I fully comprehend them.Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami
Everything is ok as long as I keep moving. And thankfully there is a lot of moving to do these days. My new apartment initially seemed so small, I almost started having second thoughts about all this. Am I moving back to the dorms? Is this like college all over again? Then, everything was ok. Everything fit. Moving was easy (thanks to a very dear friend). I have a bed to sleep on. Assembling things is very therapeutic. I see why people enjoy building things, repairing things and such. And writing. To fully comprehend things, I couldn't agree more with that statement.
So far, I am having a hard time with this transition. It hasn't sunk in yet. I am in medical school. What the hell?? How did I get here? I have been preparing for this for years and thinking about it, and hoping for it and now I am here, and I can't even believe it is happening. Maybe once I get thrown into the deep water. The past few days I have been trying to catch up with friends, since I haven't seen anyone in 2 months and now I will probably not see them for 4 years - hopefully, that's an exaggeration - but now I have to start meeting new people. New mindset. My roommate is very sweet, friendly, social. I am so glad. And in a few minutes, we are heading to the first social event of medical school: the first year ice-cream mixer. I think I might be back in college... did I mention that someone in the elevator asked me if I was a resident???
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