I've got some thoughts about babies.
No, I do not want one, nor do I feel my internal clock going off. Its just that...
They're so small. They are just these tiny little people that have nothing on them: No weight, no deeply rooted issues, no fears. They have not yet done anything to make their parent's disappointed, hardening their skin to a frequently morose world. They are receptive and appreciate of love from all directions whether familiar face, or new smiling one. They trust, because they have no other reason to believe or even question the existence of another option.
Just something I noticed.
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I sit in this waiting room and I can feel my life slipping away from me. No one should experience the sense that their time is being wasted. Now I know I'm getting paid, so it's not a complete waste, but that's not what I'm talking about. I mean my abilities are going to waste. My capacity is dying. I am doing monotonous tasks and feigning polite conversation for eight hours of my daily existence. I should never have to pretend like this because after having stewed in the daily pleasantries, numbness is setting in. My eyes glaze towards these family. Hi. Do you like spacemen? Blah, Blah, Comfort, Kindness. It's getting fake; and that is what hurts. That I am forcing these emotions that I honestly felt a few weeks ago. Such repetitive human interaction has removed my humane feelings.
Apparently, The health care system has crushed my idealism. Now I know how Obama feels (Ba-zing!)
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