yours {h.s.} | {b1.5}

JULY 1, 2019

July 1, 2019

First day.

Save from the terrors of stepping on coworkers toes and unquestionably unnecessary anger issues that will get me into more trouble than otherwise worth, I suppose today could be considered successful. At the very least, was not fired. At the very least, hours on a paycheck which inevitably leads towards more money going back to girls. Selfishly, I know that I should not welcome distractions. I know that I have to encourage myself to think logically which means that my focus is on the medicine and the girls.

Though, a most peculiar thing happened today; unexpected. Cox—horrible last name, can only imagine the teasing; removes almost all agency for any ideally liberated, 21cen woman—got caught in the elevator with me. Storm knocked the power out and ended up having to give her my inhaler. It was weird. For just a moment, I could feel myself softening in just the way that I did not want to. Distractions, aforementioned, are not welcome as they inevitably cloud the goal of getting money to the girls. Though, I privately now admit that there was a tug of guilt and disappointment when I cut her off her gratitude and thanks by saying "we don't have to talk." (True.)

Though, all guilt disappeared when she was unable to intubate a patient. Not sure what med school she went to, but I question her competence as a doctor if she is unable to complete a simple task such as. Further, made it obvious that she does not like me. All of them have, subtly. Today, she was more outright. Think I hurt her feelings in the elevator and I hate the split that I feel. Harry knows he should apologize and that any one of my sisters would whoop me for my behavior. Dr. Styles doesn't particularly care.

Tomorrow might be better, though, today was hardly bad.

Could always be worse. Could be back in England. Remember to be optimistic.