The moment in which Callie Torres joined Derek Shepherd in his wallowing (sort of different)

She didn't know what to say. She couldn't think of any words that could be said out loud that didn't sound in a way patronising or cheesy or trite.

He asked her how she woke up in the morning, knowing that what she did was so essential in everyday life and that she was regarded by each patient as a god, expecting to know how to save his or her life and in no way thinking that maybe she couldn't. He asked her how she could look herself in the mirror knowing that she killed far more patients than saved their lives, because he couldn't and truly wanted to know. He asked her how she could show up at work to start a brand new day and rework the cycle of killing or saving people, never stopping to grieve for the ones she didn't save because of a mistake.

She had no way of answering him. Her mind drew a blank because she didn't know how she got out of bed in the morning or looked herself in the mirror or showed up at work to try again. She just knew she did and that she couldn't for the life of her figure out why.

So she asked him for a beer to join him in his self-loathing because she sure as hell started drowning in her own. Besides, it was his fault she was in the first place. A beer was the least he could do.

Fleeting Leisure

And so, another week of doing nearly absolutely nothing passes by and, like I said, absolutely nothing can be shown for it.

I've still got a whole shitload of ISP research to do, a video plotline somehow related to Fanny by Marcel Pagnol to think about, a Drama Portfolio entry to complete (and start), a PowerPoint Presentation of the arrest of Rosa Parks to finish, to learn the other two pages of Nocturne by Chopin hands together not to mention the rest of Dreams by Kabalevsky and the freaking whole of Le Coucou by some french composer. Then there are the Studies (which are of no help with my perpetual trek across the lands of lack-o'-practice) and other components of piano that I don't want to think about. There are upcoming projects too, as well as the returning of my Chemistry Unit Test, on which I have a sneaking suspicion I didn't do well and the horrendous mark update for Drama. It ain't gonna be pretty.

On another note, since I've been so bored procrastinating, I've started writing again (aside from the whining and the complaining on this blog) and I'm thinking of perhaps posting it on fictionpress. If I posted it here, no one would read it. I kind of want to despite that. Hmm. It's probably just the glam of a new blog.