Thinking about this for long. Am sliding into my lecturer's job comfortably. Teaching a batch of III/III MBBS kids who want "just the exam stuff", rounding with residents who are at best average, giving advice to prospective residents who are in a quandary about what field to take where; afternoons which drag incessantly through hours spent in the RMO mess which seem to lead into same things everyday over endless cups of tea, feeling lazy to venture beyond college in the morning to back home in the evening- the traffic sucks anyway, the heat is opressive, the sweat and dust cakes into unsightly muck on my face; don't feel bad about getting bored reading, pick the bag and set off home. Driving used to be a time to reflect, now its just about avoiding an idiot who wants to cut across the signal or make it across while the railway crossing is open.Calls are manageable.Admissions are not many.OPDs are not really exciting.No one seems to say I am wrong at anything.
Want to feel angst, but the inertia to overcome to just indulge in constructive thought seems.........well,... not okay. But am surprised at my not doing anything about it.
Wither inspiration? It seems to have become into just the act of breathing. Existing.Merging, homogenizing. I need a whack on the bottom, a pull at the collar and a push from behind. Am waiting for it.
The House That Knows My Name
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