No Sex in the Champagne Room
Okay so I'm disappointed. I watch Grey's Anatomy. (Well I did until this last year when they started with that whole retarded love triangle thing... i mean seriously, who even considers picking a vet over Dr. McDreamy. I know vets are smarter because they can treat the entire animal kingdom but come on...) So I know how much closet sex surg. residents are supposed to get in between tough bouts of saving lives.
At least I thought I knew... I've been spending over 12 hours a day in this neuro surgery resident's room for the past two weeks and not once has a resident come into this place with a with a busty nurse spilling out of her scrubs looking for a quickie. Have I been deceived? I mean, this is the dream of becoming a surgeon. Right up there with the bragging rights ("I'm a surgeon" *wink*), the money, and the privilege of being rude to others and having them come to expect such treatment. Oh and the helping of people, of course.
I'm still holding out hope that there's another, closer room in the hospital where the real excitement takes place. All the residents do here is check their messages and discuss complicated brain stuff that's way over my head. I have overheard some amusing conversations though about "fleas"- "I could do his job with half of my brain tied behind my back!"
Hanging out with these neurosurg guys has made me seriously consider going into neurosurgery. Everyone here is actually super chill and really nice. Not that I particularly care about brains. In fact the whole concept reminds me too much of hannibal lecter. But I would do it just for the right to work "well, it's not brain surgery" into my daily conversations. Rocket Science? Yeah rocket science is hard but it's not brain surgery. Which I do.
...
I really want to get something small for the super nice secretary lady who lets me into this hell hole every day. I have a secret fear that she hates my guts because I'm always bugging her at the worst times to unlock the lounge door. But she's always really sweet and friendly to me and I think nice people deserve to get shown some sort of appreciation. A card? Flowers? Candy? Edible underwear? I should probably find out her name first. Not that I have the time to do any shopping. So I'll probably get her nothing. But they say it's the thought that counts. I have officially thought about and documented my desire to get her something nice. Therefore I must be a good person. QED.
At least I thought I knew... I've been spending over 12 hours a day in this neuro surgery resident's room for the past two weeks and not once has a resident come into this place with a with a busty nurse spilling out of her scrubs looking for a quickie. Have I been deceived? I mean, this is the dream of becoming a surgeon. Right up there with the bragging rights ("I'm a surgeon" *wink*), the money, and the privilege of being rude to others and having them come to expect such treatment. Oh and the helping of people, of course.
I'm still holding out hope that there's another, closer room in the hospital where the real excitement takes place. All the residents do here is check their messages and discuss complicated brain stuff that's way over my head. I have overheard some amusing conversations though about "fleas"- "I could do his job with half of my brain tied behind my back!"
Hanging out with these neurosurg guys has made me seriously consider going into neurosurgery. Everyone here is actually super chill and really nice. Not that I particularly care about brains. In fact the whole concept reminds me too much of hannibal lecter. But I would do it just for the right to work "well, it's not brain surgery" into my daily conversations. Rocket Science? Yeah rocket science is hard but it's not brain surgery. Which I do.
...
I really want to get something small for the super nice secretary lady who lets me into this hell hole every day. I have a secret fear that she hates my guts because I'm always bugging her at the worst times to unlock the lounge door. But she's always really sweet and friendly to me and I think nice people deserve to get shown some sort of appreciation. A card? Flowers? Candy? Edible underwear? I should probably find out her name first. Not that I have the time to do any shopping. So I'll probably get her nothing. But they say it's the thought that counts. I have officially thought about and documented my desire to get her something nice. Therefore I must be a good person. QED.
4 Comments:
Give the secretary a Stanford umbrella and/or water bottle. Nothing says Thank You quite like that.
I was gonna get you, chang, and hubert big screen tvs as farewell presents. I just never got around to it. but as they say...
it may be too late for gerlad and chang, but you have 9 days left to make good on your intentions...
Hubert, don't you owe Gerald a month's salary or something?
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