of the feeling that
everything would be
I do best with decision making between three options. No more, no less.
Pink, green, black.
Mild, moderate, severe.
Wine, beer, cocktail.
Comedy, drama, documentary.
Chocolate, fruit, mint.
It sounds so fucking selfish to say it, but it's true. I have too many alternatives. Too many opportunities. More than three things to choose from.
I've waited nearly two months for a hard offer from the hospital in Atlanta. I've called their bluff on offers for other positions within the company. I've played the game and interviewed with multiple other groups. (I'm no longer one of those girls who doesn't know what she's worth.) In fact, I'd started to give serious consideration to places I never intended on living. To job titles I never intended on pursuing.
Then it came. Then they called my bluff. With a deadline.
The clock ticks in Atlanta.
And now I am back to square one.
Fucking loyalty. Fucking logic.
Also, I have missed you.