A post written directly to the airport I had never happen again.
outlet from everyday life, from fatigue, with a thousand things that make the lives of those living alone and working, writing is becoming less automatic.
Once a tictictic sui tasti non appena avevo uno spunto. Ricordo che una volta ho scritto qualcosa persino sul Vape alla menta con cui mi intossicavo nelle notti estive per studiare con la finestra aperta senza che le zanzare facessero di me un unico pomfo bipede.
Adesso ho troppe, troppe cose su cui scrivere.
3 settimane fa volevo fortemente buttar giù il mio bilancio di fine stage in medicina vascolare, ma l'inizio del successivo è stato senza una tregua nel mezzo, e da allora se dormo abbastanza è già un regalo, figuriamoci scrivere. A quante mail non ho ancora risposto?
Medicina vascolare, dicevo: un reparto di luci ed ombre. Pazienti che non ce la fanno ad uscire di lì with both legs, other than just leaving, others that are not que du bonheur, as it was the day of my ultinmo STGA graduate student with the smartest ever known, both with tears in his eyes after watching a patient walk after months of hospitalization and complications, and a girl of 29 years to three weeks of a fetal death, 45 minutes of resuscitation and 3 days in a coma back to normal, his daughter and her partner three years that had flown front of his nose and a diamond big as a marriage proposal while they were stubs.
As said Annabel, que du bonheur.
Despite deaths, treatment failures, diagnoses heavy.
To survive in our work we must never stop doing budgets.
My plane leaves in an hour and a half, I might leave earlier than changing flight but actually I did not hurry.
How many hours I stayed at home, barely 48? A quick charge of the family, perfumes, coffee, hugs and laughter familiar intimacy with anyone else I have. My sister and our communication with twins, the nostalgia I have for you forever. My father and his being affectionate, his physicality, his bear hugs from me and how to remain silent and do our usual cabaret Gaia, looking at how to find a confirmation of having done a good job. Upon my word, I do not think he could do better.
You can be so connected, in the family? I'll know how to recreate this magical atmosphere that keeps us away even though cohesive, elastic as to be glued when I have my family?
Once it was so hard to leave them behind as I returned to my university life. Today was unbearable. I simply afraid of losing them as they grow. And I feel very selfish for not being there, never, never quite present.
mentally Today I escaped from the rain while talking to her grandmother, from whose voice you can imagine the sun shining on the other hand Bagnara. Easter in Bagnara means a thousand things, a lifetime of memories, and I have left to invest for a bit while preparing the other hand the bag to go north and then west, while the call of the South begins to be unsustainable.
But back to the life that I have chosen, far away, rainy, for some months yet close to Andrea, and children from broken bones to me are every day more pleasant, despite the time that I jumped off the bed every morning.
If I had these six months in Florence I had relaxed pace, time to prepare for exams and take advantage gracefully, time to enjoy the friends that I missed last year and that I miss now more than ever, and I would be with my two beautiful coinqui that I made last semester a true romance.
Toulouse gives me the opportunity to cement a relationship, to try out new things, to get started really to see if this life is possible.
Every day I tell myself that it is being worth the effort, I take more than leave. Since budgets are made to order, please give me that reason.
last look in the mirror before you embark, to feel less hatred in place of the hostess.
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