Would I Ask for More?

When I was deep into my 96-hour straight workweeks, I once seriously thought I'd consider an 8-5 job? I wondered what it was like sleeping a peaceful night, no crazy calls from stupid nurses at night, no dying patients at the break of dawn, no constant fear of encountering a strange emergency case at 2 am. I longed for mornings that start at my very own comfortable bed and perked up by the smell of homemade breakfast and not the usual hospital goo. I yearned to declare "That's it for today." at 5 pm and rush home to cook my husband a simple dinner, watch Grey's Anatomy or read Nicholas Sparks, hit the sack when I feel like it. Oh yeah, and do IT of course.

Well. Im kinda having THAT life right now, thanks to my clinical trial stint, the second year of which Im celebrating today. It's a happy one of course, because it means I get a salary increase. At least now I've equalled my moonlighting earnings without burning a lot of sweat.

My current life isn't exactly ideal - my husband is away two nights a week, and when he's around, I'd be too sad cooking alone at home so I'd rather hang around at the gym while he works out. Why I'm not joining him is another story. But yes, I do wake up in a comfortable bed. I do make delicious breakfast and get a lot of pleasure watching my husband gobble it up. I do declare "That's it for today." at 5 pm everyday. Well sometimes at 4 pm. Okay, 3 pm is more like it. But I do go home every afternoon. To a nice dinner, homemade or otherwise. More importantly, I sleep after a satisfying routine of cool shower, prayer, novel.

Despite all this, I am addressed as doctor at work. I get to keep my title without the associated insanity.

I honestly miss the hospital, but I'd rather not say no to this right now. I believe it's for me and I deserve it.