How's your fake life going?

I'm reading Mortified, this book Trish gave me for Christmas that is pretty much a compilation of journal or diary entries from years ago that different people submitted. There was one paragraph that was just spot-on:

I am so tired of fantasizing about all the conversations we could have and then fucking it up in real life. I wish I were as good in real life as I am in fake life.

Thanks for the book, Trish.

I've got a socialism of the heart

I'm beat, but I was able to finish my presentation for tomorrow. I had one patient, and she failed - again. Plus one patient with a displaced wire, which I ingeniously stabilized. The technique was so simple and useful that I'm going to repeat it on other patients.

My chest has been trying to explode since this morning. Dana told me I look different today.

Laura left around 1:30 last night. It was totally worth it, but I was - and am - a bit tired today. Tonight I'm going to try to kick in early.

I had a bunch of shit kicking around in my the last few days that I wanted to get down, but I can't remember any of it at the moment.

Billy Bragg's "Upfield" is getting firmly lodged in my head.

Their faces shown and they were gone and I was left alone
I walked these ancient empire streets 'till I came tearful to my home
And when I woke next morning, I vowed to play my part
I've got a socialism of the heart, I've got a socialism of the heart