Somehow, my family managed to leave at 8am, and arrive home after midnight. By all our calculations, it shouldn’t have taken so long. Perhaps the catch was that, in driving through Georgia, my parents wanted to stop at every other fresh fruit stand to collect peaches. To which the children objected that they were too juicy to eat in the car. So they propitiated us by buying pecan brittle as well.

Surgery orientation starts tomorrow morning, and is supposed to go very late in the day. I am absorbed in wondering how much anatomy I can cram back into my head between the end of orientation Monday evening, and the start of business Tuesday morning. Surgeons, after all, are supposed to be the ultimate pimpers. I am also laying plots to be allowed to participate in surgeries, something surgical interns don’t usually get to do. On GYN surgery, people kept telling me, “Don’t ask, just be proactive and get involved.” And then when I put my hands anywhere close to theirs I got scowled at. . . mildly, but still. . .

Reading notes from the trip: Heinlein’s Cat Who Walks Through Walls: I remember now why I thought it was so indecent, and dropped it after two chapters, last time I tried; a third of the way through, it’s no better. Why does he have to write such splendid plots so disgustingly? Dickinson’s Final Encyclopedia: Why do all grand sci-fi epics end up with “we must help further the evolution of the human race so people will always be good naturally”? It’s such a dumb, boring plot line. Him and Asimov’s Foundation, which turned into Gaia, the conscious planet. Ick. Terry Golway’s For the Cause of Liberty: Amazing how the British could be so nasty to the Irish. In every single episode, they were always inexplicably and evilly wrong. Don’t suppose the author’s bias has anything to do with it. . . Makes me want to start blowing up landlords or their agents; I can only read a chapter at a time, it riles me up too much. Although I have to say, I’m amazed the IRA didn’t start its atrocities any earlier than they did; seems to me the Irish were remarkably patient and longsuffering, not to make a finally successful revolution till this last century. Multiple Rex Stout books: I need to find an orchid garden to look at.

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