the life and musings of a kinky slut


Subtitle: Poetic is being emo again.

I first felt it when she flung her glasses open before putting them on like two weeks ago. It was just something in the dorkiness mixed with snark that was just… Yup, I have a crush again.

It’s been such a long time since I’ve had a new crush. Exhaustive soul sucking work will do that.

Her sarcasm is the best. She has a dark sense of humor similar to my own, but she says the shit out loud. She can, though. She’s not an intern. 

And, she’s white.

What does it say about me that I judged myself when I first felt the flutters for her because I was starting to fall for someone white?

Wait, am I falling for her? Maybe.

There was a moment in the OR today where I had no choice but to be pressed up against her. My heart raced. I wonder if she heard the quickening of my breath?

She is so good. Levelheaded. Confident. Skilled. So much better than me. And yet, when we work together, she always finds a way to uplift me, to encourage me even as I feel like a fucking imbecile or idiot most days.

I was so happy she was with me in the OR today. She was an emotional rock when the attending was being a total dick.

I think about what it would be like with her. I want to kiss her. More than kiss her.

We’re getting Jamaican food tomorrow. Just us two. A friendly meal, but I want to be more than friends. Yes, don’t shit where you eat, but we only work with each other for another two weeks. And then what? 

And then, what?  

I’m doing that thing again where I have whole conversations and thoughts and multiple tangents about what ifs and maybes about a person because my heart doesn’t know how to do this.

I don’t know how to do this. 

It feels like I’m fucking up before I even get started.

Have I been coming on too strong? Is it too obvious? Am I too much? Do I laugh too hard? Talk too much? Try too much?

I hate this shit.

I really like her.

She probably has a girlfriend.

She’s watched all of P Valley and talked to me about Drag Race.

She calls me buddy and friend. Are those hints? Hints that I don’t want or hints that I do?

She probably has a girlfriend.

I do too much.



Am I ever going to find love?

(Side note: I’m typing this from my iPad because my laptop is all but dead. Audio recording of this sometime in the future when I figure out a work around.)


We spent two hours at my apartment eating Jamaican food and shooting the shit. I opened up and told her about my life before med school. She spoke about her plans for the day including seeing an ex and decorating Christmas cookies in an attempt to be the bigger person.

I really REALLY like her, but we are just friends. She called me buddy again in parting. I’m taking the hint.

However, and I confirmed this with her (cause I always need reassurance in such things), we will be friends even after we stop working together in two weeks. I’ll take the small victories.

Okay, back to the dating drawing board.

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