Wednesday, September 16, 2009
That's me in Havana. On the other side of the water.
Four days off. Six days on. Eight days off. Essentially the flow of my life these days.
Days working mean 12 hour days in a non-busy ER. Get up early, then get home, eat, shower, go to bed and do it all again the next day, occasionally interrupted by a swim, a walk on the bridge, dinner with friends, an on-the-run martini at the Hurricane.
Hug the TeenQueen, cuddle with the dog, then into bed. Try to entertain myself in the ER during the day, but boy, if it's SLOW, the day drags.....sometimes we're actually all jumping on any patient that walks through the door.
Days off, however, are a study in tropical living. Beach time, pool time, tan time, boat time, lobster time, cooking for friends time. Even a little down time in Miami if the call schedule permits. HB time, if he happens to come into town for a few days (and is on his BEST behavior, which usually happens after a few days away from me). The off-days haven't even been interrupted lately with extra shifts because everyone is SLOW and there's no extra work to be found. Bad on the wallet. Good on the soul.
I just realized today that we are at peak hurricane season and there has been hardly a stir. No constant Weather Channel watching like last year, where every other weekend we were making evacuation plans. This year, if we have a passing shower in the afternoon, we're amazed. The days have been beautiful, and you can already tell the change in the season: the days are shorter, the sun sets earlier, the breeze is balmy, less oppressive. One more month before the A/C comes off and the windows open until May....and the electrical bill goes down significantly.
FantasyFest is around the corner, coming up next month. I think this will be the year I bypass the ER and actually GO downtown to see what the hoopla is all about. I'm trying to get a group together from out of town, since I don't really want to dress up/body paint/raise hell/get smashed, just go and mingle. I mean I love a good costume party as much as the next person, but the idea of public nudity, drunken idiocy and vomiting in someone's front yard is not really my idea of a good time. Call me old-fashioned....
I'm so happy here. Life might not always be stress-free, but my surroundings kind of melt everything away. I think I'd rather struggle a little here to make it than be in the lap of luxury somewhere else. It's not all about being happy. It's about being at peace with myself. With my life, how I live it. That I find joy in the little things, not the stuff I buy. Can't buy a sunset. Can't buy a manatee. Can't buy an ocean breeze.
But I can buy an expresso martini after my bridge walk!
Maybe I should change the nickname to MartiniGirl---naaaa! I've been Mojitogirl for way too long! And anyway, I only drink mojitos these days when I'm in Havana, sitting at the outdoor restaurant opposite the cathedral in the colonial part of the city. That's a tradition I intend to keep as long as I can hold a glass up to toast with. Mojitos in Havana. Anything else-everywhere else!