My facebook status this week:
Vitum is entering one of those hell weeks that usually end with his friends asking, "Why don't we see you anymore?" Trust me, my bed feels the same way.
I spent most of Christmas describing third year to my friends and family like this: it's like working full-time (a doctor's definition of full-time, which is often 50 or 60 hours a week), plus being on call for an overnight shift every fourth night, plus studying for a major exam every month. Wheeeee!
Like I've said many times before, though, I am careful not to whine too much. Not only were my first two years of med school two of the most fun-packed years of my life (as I was reminiscing with a classmate just this afternoon), but as hard as I am being worked right now I'm doing what I love, and worked hard to be able to do.
After all, it is indeed my signature at the bottom of the application to medical school from three years back.
Yet, sometimes I check just to make sure.