Perhaps it was the All Blacks doing the safety demonstration on my flight. Perhaps it's the way the barista didn't sneer at my request for a skinny latte (in Melbourne, this is a deportable offence; skinny milk doesn't enhance the roast correctly). Perhaps my 30-hour stench is warding off stress and ennui. It's certainly cleared me a space at the departure lounge.
My intern year is done. I am a fully accredited, licensed doctor.
I have absolutely no idea where this year will take me. I've got plans for every continent. Jobs in every hemisphere. Reefs to dive, sun to catch, canals to skate, exams to write.
For the first time in 5 years, I have no idea where I'll be in 6 months. It's so exciting that I almost don't need a third latte. Then again, I'm turning 30, unemployed and contemplating moving into my parent's basement. Extra strong, please.
I owe a massive thank you to Ian who made an "airports and trips home" mix a few months back. I'm spending the next three weeks with it on permanent rotation. Decisions will be made with an excellent soundtrack.
And to my regular readers, thank you for following me all through the year; I'm out until I've got another job (doctor or dive instructor, either one) or until I move to Christchurch.
Kia Ora!
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