Of little truths.

I was talking to the female counterpart of the Higher Authority last night as she was huddled under the covers and I was typing frantically on the laptop chatting to people from all around the world and she asked this question.

"Poet, is physiotherapy your passion?"

I stopped typing. The clicking on the keyboard slowed to a crawl and I sat for a little bit, pondering what I would say. What shall I confess this time round? Having brought up the fact that I've got a girlfriend to my parents, now its time to tell them the truth.

Truth?

The truth about how much I despise physiotherapy. The fact that I only did it because I did not want to waste my Health Science First Year qualification and besides, my parents threw a FIT when I told them I was hoping to get into Phys Ed.

"You're not a sports person! What are you going to do with a Phys Ed degree?" they exclaimed.

Fair enough. That makes sense.

And then I found dance and THEN found out that if I had pursued Phys Ed, I could have skipped 2 different papers purely because I could be teaching dance and hence, that would exempt me from those two papers. Dance labs. How FUN that would be!

That I honestly don't like seeing sick people all the time and sometimes, working in the hospital makes me depressed as I have to deal with all the humanly possible shit that happens in hospital, both literally and figuratively and to be perfectly honest, dear Higher Authorities, all I really want to do is dance. And dance. And teach. And share my passion. When you see me dance, its a whole different thing, isn't it? I"m passionate, I'm alive, I'm...happy.

But no, here I am, treating another sprained ankle, another achy back, another pneumonia or another intubated patient. Whoop dee fscking do. So its time.

And as I turn around the tell her what I really thought of my profession, her quiet snoring filled the air.

Oh well, I thought to myself. Another time, perhaps