It is so not what it is cracked up to be.
First of all, I am NOT a doctor's life. I am an intern's life. That means I am the wife of a person who is essentially never ever ever home.
He was at home and awake for three hours yesterday. It's hard to get quality time with someone who comes home to a full e-mail box, something to study and worries from the hospital packed into the pockets of his scrubs and the crevasses of his memory.
I gave him the first hour, being as quiet as I could be because I knew he needed time to decompress. By hour two I couldn't stand it anymore and was also hungry, so we dined together on leftovers and conversation interrupted by shifting eyes and closing eyelids--his mind doesn't rest. Plus I had so much catching up to do with him that we kept subject jumping. Then he went back to his computer. When he finally conceded to closing up work and getting some rest our conversation was punctuated by glances and typing on his PDA and his pager. Augh!
I made him put those away, but our conversation turned to my website ("When will it be built?") and then our income (when will I have a steady income?). These are not restful topics. So a biting conversation ensued, with me convincing the poor boy that he wasn't under attack he was simply exhausted and not really paying attention, while I was bored and worried about money.
But I will get work. I will find a way. I will. I can do it. I can do it.
Doctor's wives don't worry about money like this.... I am an intern's wife.
Only three years to go.
Meanwhile, he is on call again tonight, so I am free to work this wedding as long as I can. I am going to be a photographer's assistant, which apparently means "being the eyes" of the photographer and being by his side. It might grow into a second shooter position, or even a first shooter, so we'll see. I'd better get going and work for the best with cheer and grace.