2. Indian food! New Girl On The Block brought a variation of biriyani unlike any I'd had before. It had red and yellow rice in it! We all traded food, so I had a combination of homemade Mexican, Chinese, Indian, and Thai and take-out American for lunch.
3. My next dog will probably be three rescued pit crosses, a bull terrier, two Kangal mixes like the Zoaters, and a herd of goats with a couple of Strider-clones to watch over them. I think I might need a farm.
4. And on that note, I have a long-term goal: by the time I'm sixty (ie; in 20 years) I want to be one of those husky-voiced, stocky Texan women who can run a baler and fire a shotgun and who owns her own land. Mine might have a super-efficient earthship on it, true, but that won't stop me from exercising my second-amendment rights to fire shots in the air to scare off coyotes. (Seriously? I couldn't shoot a predator, even, unless it was coming after me. But using dogs and donkeys and llamas to kill them/scare them off? Cool.)
5. I've finally figured out how residents do it: First, you work until you're exhausted. Then you work until you get that brittle, cheerful, hyped feeling. Then you work through that. Then you fall over and sleep. Then lather, rinse, repeat.
I am feeling distinctly harsh and unforgiving tonight, along with being cheerfully brittle. I feel like I've had six cups of coffee today, when it's only been two, and I doubt I can sleep.
The folks who do this repeatedly for up to seven years (shout-out to Beloved Cousin Claire!) have mad props from me. When people ask my why I didn't go to med school, I tell them that *this* feeling is why.
6. Good fucking night.