Adulting

We have triumphantly arrived in Pittsburgh.  I suppose I'll stick around as a guide to the area/travel blog until ya'll tell me to shut up.

First off, this happened:



I'm a traditionalist so it's really not a wedding unless you're married by Elvis, given away by Thor, and handed to a man wearing a halloween costume made to look like a tux.

Because guess what you don't want to do when you spent the better part of a year in a panicked state?  Plan a wedding?  Correct.  Viva las vegas.  This was immediately followed by a trip in our party clothes on the NY NY rollercoaster.

Sidenote: slot machines are one hundred percent not fun anymore.  They've turned down the winnings *and* they're all voucher plays, so it feels more like a reverse ATM than a game.  At least freemium gaming occasionally gives you some food from the skinner box.

So we went with blackjack.  Play by the book, and you can drink all day and never really gain or lose a lot of money.  Play by the seat of your pants, and you will lose not only your money, but gain the full ire of the rest of the table.

But still, Vegas was fun and Cirque was worth the money.  But you know this.

We managed to get our last minute movers and roadtripped to Pittsburgh.

First stop: Hot Springs, Arkansas.  Lots of bikers.  Beautiful scenery.  Kind of an odd vibe.  Went to restaurant known for its incredible seafood that served salmon, scallops and tilapia.  This is odd for a restaurant in a pensensula of a lake

Second stop: Memphis TN for a deliciously redneck lunch.  Trout tacos.  That's what I'm talking about.  Catch my lunch.  Don't order it from the gulf.

Third stop: Nashville.  Nashville frigging rules.  I've never seen so much musical talent in one place.  Check out the Khromatiks.  We stayed there for a while before driving an hour north to the hotel.

Fifth stop.  Columbus, OH.  We felt like we should explore and wound up exploring a nearby restaurant and an episode of game of thrones.  I feel like it was the right decision.

Sixth stop.  Pittsburgh.  Sat on the porch of our new digs, wandered to the main drag to get an artisanal cup of coffee and met our landlord again for the walkthrough.  This house is so great.  It's so adult.  We have internet speed befitting the century.  I have a gas oven and a gas grill.  Everything is trees and rivers.

I had a traumatic trip to Ikea, as they all are, I suppose.  You wind through, eyes full of wonder, constructing the house of your dreams.  Then you get to that "self serve" aisle where you realize you've ordered 12 thousand pounds worth of crap into a car that only holds 4 thousand.  Employees watch you fail boy scout exams time after time as you attempt to wrap your entire car in twine, yet still that futon frame tries to make an escape for the back exit.

Then they closed all tunnels into the city.  Like think Dark Knight Rises but without ice to walk across.  Needless to say, by the time I got home, I needed a Xanex and a shower.

But the house!  The neighborhood!  The job!  Hooray!

I'm a grown up doctor!

Freedom!!! Freedom!!!

I've been blasting the Pharrell Williams song all over my house on repeat.  Maybe that's why my newly acquired husband chose that moment to go do chores.

Yesterday was the last day of training.  Ever.  Things were so generally chaotic yesterday that it didn't really dawn on me until I'd slept like the dead and woke up at 10:30 this morning.

I'm.  Done.  Sure I have one more board to take for the triple crown, but it's nowhere nearly as soul crushing as the others with lesser the consequences, but that's it.  I'm off to Pittsburgh with a song in my heart, invectives at my overpriced movers on my lips, and an epic party starting in a few hours.

Am I scared?  Oh sure, I have imposter syndrome with the rest.  Will I be able to hold my own as an adult; will everything work out, but that feeling is so overwhelmed by relief and happiness that I can go into it with a positive attitude and excitement rather than fear.

Leaving yesterday was weird.  It's been no secret that my training here away from my happy familiar faces of residency was pretty rough on me.  There were about three people I trusted, and one of them was gone half the year, leaving me lonely, paranoid, and generally regretful.  When I left residency and the now hubster picked me up, I was bawling.  Couldn't stop.  Just sat in the car and cried.  Cried on the attendings.  Cried on the friends.  Cried on the support staff.  Finally got to a nice lunch place where the owner knew us.  Had to excuse myself to cry some more.  Told him the food was fine; I was just losing my mind.

Drove to about an hour out where my Charleston-mom and Charleston-dad were waiting with my Charleston-dogs to say goodbye.  The girls climbed over each other in the SUV to lick my hand as I was presented with a fairly pricy pair of pearl earrings "because you love to dive".  A big platter of lasagna so her baby wouldn't be hungry on the trip to Texas.  More sobbing.

Yesterday as I negotiated phone calls, cleaned out my desk, and went on a signature scavenger hunt, and dealt with the general chaos of having a moving company shift your dates forward by 10 days to the start of work with less than a week's notice for a price that would easily by a CPO used car, and got all my "ducks in a row" as one of the few people there I trust would say, as I careened toward the end of the day and an hour beyond it, I just kind of strolled out.  Gave a tentative hug to a couple people who seemed more upset than I am, and walked smiling out into the humidity.

The party tonight may be a bit more difficult.  I will miss being so close to my family.  I will miss the friends who have adopted us.  But training?  Nah.  I'm good.  35 and I'm finally an adult.  36 and I'll have my own house and a dog.

I'm free.  Bring it on.