My med school and I are fighting.

They aren’t aware of it – but I am.

And I have to admit, seeing as how I’m sleeping on a floor, hijacking the living space of some perfectly respectable people who didn’t expect to have a hobo camped out in their living room, trying to organize my clothes in neat piles next to their sofa – … looks like I’m not winning.

Some background:  Metropolis Med has a 3rd year ceremony this week – sort of “White Coat Ceremony: Part 2”.  It’s mandatory, and scheduled for the first day of rotations.  This is annoying for me because my rotation schedule requires me to move to a different city for the year (long story) – so because of this ceremony, my only option is to move cities on the same day my 1st rotation actually starts.

(I don’t ask for much in life.  It’s the little things, mostly.  The little things like desiring more than 12 hours to move my entire damn life from one city to another.)

But the real point is this: my dorm lease ended last week, and the new school housing I’m supposed to move into is still being renovated.  So where am I supposed to live until the mandatory ceremony? Am I supposed to move into a hotel for 2 weeks?  (Was I supposed to actually, I don’t know, give this some thought before the end of the semester?)

So, faced with a hell of a problem, I did what any sane person would: I ignored it.

I figure psychologically, it’s better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission.  And practically, I’m betting it would take the Housing Office longer than a week to change my locks.  And realistically, who would want to go to the trouble of forcibly evicting all of my boxes?

They’re heavy.

Anyway, I’ve decided to view my refusal to vacate my dorm as a symbolic protest of the 3rd year ceremony scheduling.  Because, in that sense, everything worked out perfectly!  The school scheduled the ceremony inconveniently, but I ignored their lease, so we’re even.  FIGHT THE POWER.  

To get to the point – now that all my stuff is stacked in boxes, there’s no longer room for me (or a bed) in my 60 square-foot apartment.

So my boxes are illegally living in my apartment (which, if we’re being honest, isn’t exactly 100% packed yet) and I am living on my friend’s couch, hoping I can get away with all this for just 3 more days until the U-Haul gets here.

Then, after 3 days, I’ll be home free!  And by “home free”, I mean “starting my surgery rotation in a new city”, so… the opposite, really.

Here’s to a new year filled with interesting problems to solve or ignore!