I arrive home at nearly 7p.m. that night. Connie, against all odds, left the hospital at 3. How did this happen? Let me just say one thing: it is apparently not easy to arrange for a patient to get a pacemaker. It involves sitting on the phone for over an hour and being transferred between lots of different people, all of whom seem baffled as to why I was told that they were the one who places pacemakers. Eventually, I gave up for the day since nobody was answering phones anymore. I’m hoping tonight the pacemaker fairies will pay Mr. Garrison a magical visit.
I’m way too tired to even contemplate putting together a dinner for myself. Even a sandwich is too complicated. So on the way home, I buy a burrito at a sketchy Mexican takeout place. I suspect that eating the burrito in my room will be the highlight of my day, as long as it doesn’t make me ill.
When I get back to my apartment, my roommate (Julia!) is in the bathroom. I see the light on under the door. I know that Julia hasn’t been super friendly to me, but I feel like since we’re both interns, it’s worth it to try to bond with her. I mean, she had to have had a bad day too, right?
I stand waiting in front of the bathroom door for an embarrassingly long amount of time before Julia yanks it open. Her hair is still in that severe ponytail—I wonder if she sleeps in it. She’s clutching a roll of toilet paper in her left hand. At first I think she’s stealing my toilet paper, but then I notice that my roll is still in place. Apparently, Julia and I will not be sharing toilet paper this year.
“Hi!” I say cheerfully.
Julia looks me up and down. I’m still wearing my scrubs, and the sleeve of my white coat has faded to a dull yellow. She narrows her eyes.
“Did you take one of my eggs?” she asks me. I stare at her. “What?”
“I thought I had ten eggs,” she says. “But now there are only nine.
Did you take one?” “No,” I say.
I really didn’t. I’m innocent this time.
But Julia doesn’t look like she believes me. “Are you sure?” she presses me.
“Maybe it hatched and ran away?” I suggest. Guess what? Julia does not think I’m funny.
Days living with my crazy roommate: Too many
Chance either Julia or I will kill each other during the night: 38%
