You guys. Match Day is so soon. We have dairy in our refrigerator that expires after Match Day.
And we are within the window of when it's appropriate to send the traditional Match Day greeting card.
My last interview trail entry may have been posted last week, but it actually happened over a month ago. It almost feels like the whole thing never happened - the sleeping alone in my scary house, the rodents living in my walls, the portrait of Jack Black at the Boston MFA, the getting mistaken for a prostitute in St. Louis (while wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt, I might add). Without having to make trips to the airport every few days, we've had a lot of time to think about where we might like to live for the next 3+ years -- and I have the massive, multi-city pros and cons list to prove it, with items like:
- Ike would have to wear snow boots (pro!!)
- Gooey butter cake (pro!)
- Pro baseball teams (pro!)
- Home of the most famous minor league baseball team in America (...neutral)
- We could wear cheese heads at Match Day (pro!)
- Resident autonomy (What? What does that even mean?)
- Good clinic schedule (Who cares! Get back to the important stuff.)
- A bridge collapsed!!! (CON.)
- Residents of this state are encouraged to take their shirts off, twist them around their head and spin them like a helicopter (both?)
As you can see, someone's had their work cut out for them. And last Wednesday, Y turned in his official, final rank list... and now we wait.
In the mean time, let's discuss that Match Day card, which is actually not a thing and was sent to Y by the American Medical Association in hopes he would upgrade his membership from student to professional sometime this year.
Y thinks the note on the back of the envelope was written with an auto-pen. I -- having worked as an intern -- think a couple of interns were forced to write 13,000 handwritten congratulatory messages. What say you?