Weekends always arrive in the nick of time.  Admittedly it’s only been a 4 day working week here but I am drained.  Part of the fatigue has come from the anxiety of starting at a new hospital.  Things are a little different.  Everyone is really lovely but it takes a few weeks to settle in and feel part of the team.  I am one of the only female ATs to have completed the exams in my department which makes things a bit strange in the group dynamic.  I miss the girls.  We are all obsessively organized in our own way and have this inexplicable urge to nest in the office.  There is only one calender, one box of tissues, one jar of hand cream, one pot of lip balm and one tube of disinfecting wipes in the office – and they are all mine.

It’s proving to be a bit controversial when we chat socially (it gets busy at times but there is also plenty of chat time).  We often talk of the future, where we plan to work (this is officially our final year of training) and there is pressure to hit private practice, be a staff specialist etc etc.  Which is about the time I come up with my line, ‘I’m planning to start a family next year’.  This does little to extend to range of the conversation, I am embarrassed to say.  It’s different for R, somehow.  His clients ask about me and it seems perfectly okay to talk about trying for a baby with them.

I miss the small talk, the natural respect for boundaries in conversation.  Bizzare that I should say this at all.  For years (my numerous single years)  I saw myself as ‘one of the boys’, thinking I was more at home with the boys and their approach to friendship.  Don’t know what’s happened.  I reckon it’s being married.  It’s changed me.