Currently listening to: Grenade – Bruno Mars
But darling, I’d still catch a grenade for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah)Throw my hand on a blade for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah)I’d jump in front of a train for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah)You know I’d do anything for ya (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Preface: catch me if you can
This week, he scheduled three last-minute meetings with me. I know he can see my schedule and pinpoint when I might have availability—which, honestly, I find annoying. Every time, it starts the same way:
“How are you?”
And every time, my response is just as dry: “Doing what I need to do. You?”
Then we get into the real reason he called me—some clinical or technical issue. Me being me, I answer his questions succinctly, straight to the point. No fluff, no wasted time.
Once it’s all said and done, I wrap things up with, “Well, thanks for the information.”
Enter the awkward silence.
I give it a beat before I say, “I gotta go see my patient now.”
“Okay… byeee talk to you soon,” he finally says, dragging it out like he’s hesitant to let me go.
And then I walk away, shaking my head, wondering why this entire exchange felt like an unnecessary episode of déjà vu.
At this point, I’m not really sure what to do…advice?
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