2004-11-20 - 8:39 p.m.
written 12:30 am 11/20/04
My eyes are surely bloodshot, the way they get when I am too tired to walk straight. A sleepless night followed by intensive training and concluded with a tense drive home. I can not remember what I ate today, if anything, just the two cups of coffee at either end of the day. This must be the only thing that keeps me going, the steady jolt of caffeine that will give out any minute now.
For nearly four hours my world was about twenty feet long, the length of my headlights. There was nothing peaceful about it. Once in a while I would look up and see a dark shadow looming in the distance. Above it, nearly as dark, was a blue night sky where a moon hung fuzzy in the snow clouds hovering over the mountains. I was just missing the storm then, but the electronic signs warned of other hazards such as rocks and ice on the road.
After a while, with my eyes trained narrowly upon my little world, it was difficult to say whether I was safer talking to someone on the phone to stay awake or lose my mind to the exhaustion. I had a short, sweet conversation with Phoebe between the interruptions in the reception in the valleys.
I heard, again, that my world might become smaller. The friend of friends is awaiting the final decision on whether he is hired at the hospital. He and his wife certainly hope so. In hope that they come to make a home here as well, tomorrow I write to ask to become a part of their welcoming committee .
After far too many hours of sitting in a chair, which I am no longer used to, and being trained in far too many areas of my business, my ambitions, as usual, are in the stars. It is great to have a job that can take these ambitions with as much energy as I want to pursue them and still ask more from me.
