I wrote The strong silent type back in January. In love, of course. And unrequited.

But I wrote a second poem: the strong silent type II. And this time it was admitting that I am a female version of the strong silent type. Don't get me wrong: I talk a lot. But I hide 90% or more of what I am thinking about.

After I fired the gentleman in question, (well, you point out, how can you fire someone who doesn't want the job anyhow. It's a long story.) I returned to my normal loneliness. I am lonely and I am not lonely. I see people every day in clinic, but I am in that doctor role. Box. Suit. Shell, whatever. And even though I am atypical, it's still a job.

I was counting up friends. Some here, bless the new ones and the long time ones. A couple 3000 miles away. A friend who has moved from here to another city to another state. Further away each time. And some friends in town. Three couples, who I haven't seen in two months or more, my brother out law and another friend. And my kids, launching further away.

Back when I got influenza and was out sick for two months, lung swelling, heart rate 100 at rest and 130 walking across the room, I wrote. I started writing to my maternal family. They said I must be manic. I thought, no, I'm always like this, words words words, but my work in clinic burns an enormous amount of energy. That was cut off when I got sick. I learned NOT to write to the maternal family. This place is a life saver for burning that brain energy. I missed hugging my patients too, terribly. Once I hugged a rather formal lady in her 80s at the end of the visit. She looked shocked, but I was zipping off to the next room, hoping I hadn't offended her too much. At the next visit, she stated that she WAS shocked, but that afterwards she found that she actually liked being hugged, much to her surprise.

I don't want to be strong any more. I just want to lie down in the grass in the sun, wrapped and warm and be loved.

I haven't given an update to my personal life because over the past nine months it has changed so many times that any update I given would soon be superseded. And my life isn't that fascinating. The most important aspect of my lifestyle for most of 2016, as far as this site is concerned, is that in the process of moving around, dealing with family problems, and trying to reimagine myself as an adult professional, I no longer have the leisure time to spend an entire day reading obscure volume after obscure volume, and posting the updates of impressions on here. However, given the general pace of activity on here, and my previous output, I don't feel the need to apologize for slowing down.

But the most relevant news now: I have just completed the CELTA, the Cambridge University administered Certificate of English Language Teaching to Adults. This is a one month (very) intensive course, functioning as a kind of boot camp in the ways to teach English to non-native speakers---at least, according to Cambridge. It is the most widely recognized international certificate available, although it is less well known in the United States. Although I don't think the course was perfect, it was what I needed, and I'm proud to have done it. Especially since I already have a job offer in Santiago, Chile. All of this is pretty incredible for me. Its almost impossible to comprehend. Especially since the last few months have been lived hand-to-mouth, with the ever present anxiety of poverty and disaster.

Its kind of hard to categorize myself in my own mind: am I the person who has been couchsurfing in the margins for most of the year, and has been a chronically underemployed NEET for what seems like all of my 30s? Or am I the international playboy, one of the glamorous people who get to live in beautiful places, do interesting things, and contribute to the world in a special way? Since the second option seems more exciting, I am certainly going to go with that one.

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