Do you ever get that feeling like you are exactly where you belong doing exactly what you were meant to do? I hope you do. It's a beautiful feeling. Now I'm not saying that I feel that way every minute of every day. Let's be serious here. But every now and again I do. Like when I'm driving home from working a night shift on trauma and the sun is just starting to peak over the horizion and the whole city is that awesome golden color and the beauty of it catches me off guard. All the while I'm reflecting back on the events of my night and the people we helped or those that we couldn't no matter how hard we tried. It's kind of a crushing feeling in the pit of your stomach that then gives way to a sort of tingle that runs to the tips of your fingers and toes. It's peaceful and incredibly satisfying and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I've been living in this city doing this thing that I do for the last year. I moved here from the lovely city of Detroit. It's been a huge transition in more ways than I could have imagined. Though some things haven't changed: I'm still sassy and say what's on my mind, I still love to dance around my apartment with sunglasses on, I still love brunch, and I'm still nice as fuck.

Returning pages, lots and lots of pages. And surgery.

I hit the residency jackpot and got to move out here to work at UCSF. It's a blessing and a curse.

Maximizing my free time. Sleeping. Convincing my friends to go out dancing. Getting to the front at shows. Drinking whiskey neat.