"Happy"

It felt so good to get back into three mile runs today.  After nursing my heel, I was just dying to really move and get sweaty again.

I got an email earlier this week that literally made me jump out of my chair.  I got an interview with one of the biggest hospitals in Boston.  I'd met an alumni there a few weeks ago who encouraged me to apply for the position, but I live in Boston.  There are so many good schools out here going for the same position I wanted that I assumed I'd have to find back ups in other cities.  He sent me a very nice email saying that I was great and passionate and was really going to make a difference.  He encouraged me to start my career at the hospital he was at.  But, they received over 200 applications for a handful of positions.  I feel like this is one of those things for me that I've been wanting for so long, that I feel a bit frozen that it could be so close.  I left my family, friends, job, relationships, and home to move out here and try something new.  I know no matter what happens while I'm out here, I'll have a good experience, but I want the experience I set out here to have.  I want to be in a big hospital learning how they operate.  I started playing the Pharrell song "Happy" and dancing all around my apartment.

Also ...  I will need to kick it up a notch to beat this goal.

302 Miles Down 39 Miles to Go

Wedding Ring Seeker

Just as I start putting consulting on the table for all the good things it has, I am reminded of all the bad things it has to come along with.  I went to a health care panel today (in graduate school they are always pushing you into "career exploration" which I usually hate, but today was awesome) and there were three women on the panel who were running hospitals in Boston.  ALL of them had wedding rings on.  I started thinking about my old gone Monday-Friday life, and I had a mini panic attack.  I don't want to put myself into a situation where I can't meet anyone.  When I think about dating a consultant, I am not even a little bit attracted to the idea because I know I'll be having dinner alone four nights out of seven.  I know I'll be sleeping alone, and I know I won't be able to talk to them for more than five minutes at a time all week.  If I hate the idea of this, how can I expect someone else to be okay with it?  Also, I tend to get fat from eating out at restaurants too much.  So there's that too ...

291 Miles Down 24 Miles To Go