I'm sitting in a hotel room in Montreal, awaiting dinner with a friend (in 1 hour) and the start of a conference (tomorrow morning), and I am struggling to write one of the blog posts that has been floating around in my brain for the past few weeks. I want to write about how it feels to be six months into my work as an attending, about my struggles to start up a research program, or about my recent two-year anniversary, but all my brain and body want to do is rest. In the past two weeks, I've taken on three extra clinics and an extra weekend of call, and while my net worth is very happy about the additional work, the rest of me is not. I'm exhausted.
This past weekend, my girlfriend and I had a long discussion about careers and life goals and what is important to us. Both of us want to do work that is meaningful and that hopefully makes the world a slightly less miserable place, but we also want to have full lives outside of our work. We want to sleep in on weekends and cook good homemade food and read books and knit*. And maybe even do productive things like exercise and clean our messy apartment. If we run out of fun things to do, that is.
At the moment, it feels like what I want to do is always in conflict with what I need to do (work). I wish at times (always) that I could go back a decade and live more frugally so that I would have actual money now, instead of debt, and would feel like I could take more time to myself. I keep hoping that hitting the zero net worth mark will bring about a major change in how I feel and how I approach work. I'm hoping that it will make me feel okay with saying no to the extra clinic time and the extra weekends of call. Because while I like my job, I love my life outside of it more.
*Well, I want to knit. Specifically this,
in a gorgeous grey yarn that is ridiculously expensive but will be
worth it because it will undoubtedly take me at least six months to knit
the scarf, thus keeping the cost per hour of knitting very, very low.