It is nearing the end of the day and I have yet to write anything.

Today could be said to be the polar opposite of yesterday.  I was so incredibly busy it brought me to tears.  Doctors sending patients with no thought of the fact that I was here by myself, nurses calling with impatient patients unable to wait any longer for their exam, radiologists upset that their paperwork hadn’t been completed yet.  I have called it the worst day of my career.  I am not exaggerating.

I passed out into bed yesterday before I had a chance to worry about it.  Today has been a much better day.  Interestingly enough, by my own standards, I have still been very busy.  But in stark comparison to yesterday, this has been a breeze.

I have a narrative story written.  It is very long.  On one hand, I would like to share it – I’m proud of it, it’s dear to me, and I wrote it with the purpose of posting it.  On the other hand, after receiving a very accurate critique, I know that it needs so much more work.  I enjoy writing, but it has been so long since I’ve taken any sort of formal education.  The rules, the methods, the potential… it’s all there in my head.  I can scrunch my eyes tightly closed, delve deep into the memories of AP English, and remember what I should be doing.  But the squeaky wheels in my head aren’t turning quite as smoothly as they could be.  The correct format doesn’t flow they way it should.  And as far as I know, writing is the only grease that can fix the rusted cogs, so writing will be my oil.  I shall keep at it.