With all the great things happening in life right now, Rhianna & Chad's engagement, Jenna & Mike's engagement, work picking up speed in a big way, hanging out with my new friend crush Christine (and her mate Jim), it has been easy to avoid obsessing about the Match. That's not to say that we haven't been planning for it and talking about it, but it is not on our minds constantly. I do get real estate updates everyday from certain cities, but I mean, that's practically my JOB. ;)
As we do more and more planning for our picnic day I am actually thinking almost as much about everyone who is going to be with us celebrating and enjoying the day as I am about that slim, subtle little letter than holds in one little sentence the next three years of our life.
As shocking as it is, here we are, one week away. I am so excited to greet Nicole at the airport and have her in town for a few days, to see family who are coming down from Washington, and to be with all the people who have supported Brad throughout his Dr. in training days. It is going to be a day to remember, so I hope all who are able make it out to our picnic in Griffith Park.
On MATCH DAY, I will post about the result. Until then, this will be my last blog about our road to residency. So, I have some last thoughts:
Thoughts on Living Apart
The other day I had a terrible time at work. All day I was about as useful as a wool shrug on a hot hot day. I was putting in the time, but ending up two steps behind anyway. By the time I hit up the elevator bank at the end of the day I was out of steam and dejected. Then marriage happened.
Brad picked me up from work and whisked me away to Pasadena for our dance class. Yes, OUR dance class. My man can move! Since I hadn't had a chance to eat we stopped at a La Salsa so I could get my meat free meal, delicious style (I gave up meat for Lent). Probably even more important than the sustenance and sweet rhythms, Brad let me fret about work, feel sad, feel insecure, and get over it. He was there for me.
So, what the heck am I going to do if we have to live apart for six months or more? Hopefully Brad feels the same support from me, so, what the heck is he going to do without his wife for six months or more? As Match Day comes closer and closer and work gets busier and busier, my feeling of it maybe even being a good thing to be out of each other's hair for the first months of R1 are fading away. Fading fast.
I know that we need to unglue ourselves from the idea of San Diego so we don't feel disappointed, no matter what is in the letter. But man, that San Diego is sticky! Like, Tim the Tool Man Taylor, stupid super super glue. Arg,ar,ar,ar,.ar.
I have decided that, with steel reserve, no matter the result, I am going to see the image of the young woman in the picture, not the face of the old woman. Forced optimism, even radical delusion, is not always a bad thing. Luckily, even if Brad doesn't get his top choice, or one of his top five choice, all his options are good. Really, I actually believe that. So, even if the result is not San Diego, and is not Johns Hopkins, and is not Denver, and is not Nashville, we will still be smiling, excited, and jazzed. We might even show you some of our new moves.
If not, if we can't muster past the disappointment, at least we've planned for a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue to make all the discomfort subside.
One more week......
Cheers
Mrs. Mcmack
