Spousal pitfalls

Calvin : When can I meet up with you?
Paul : Uhh.. maybe next month?

My poor endlessly patient Charming Calvin has finally started to see the inevitable pitfalls of dating a doctor. Not only does he have to contend with the inevitable psychotic mood swings and the occasional sex-crazed monster, he also has to deal with the case of the amazing disappearing boyfriend.

For unbeknownst reasons, the past two weeks have been particularly hectic for me since I have been doing an endless stretch of 5 mind-bogglingly busy oncalls in less than 12 days. If it sounds like sheer sadistic Guantanamo Bay-prescribed torture... well, it is.

What that essentially means is practically camping out in the hospital environs for almost a week running helter skelter trying to keep up with rapidly destabilizing patients. There's just barely enough time to shovel food and drink into the mouth to keep the body functioning before rushing off to attend the next trauma case. So being dead on my feet is almost an understatement as I usually reach home after excruciating rounds only to fall comatose on my bed for the next little while ( and that's after braving a really really dangerous drive home ).


The new Lord of Perpetual Yawn
And that also means missed appointments, tardy arrivals and exceedingly late sms replies ( try a barrage of replies at midnight ) for Calvin. Despite wanting very much to meet up with him, I've been a little too tied up with ( bloody! ) work lately. Even when I do make it out for our regular meals, I'm usually a tad too groggy to do anything as wild as swapping passionate lovebites in the men's room - unlike some naughty boys I could name :)

For a gregarious crowd-loving soul like Calvin, it has to be an acute torture - which has led him to start singing lonesome litanies inspired by Akon at impromptu solo karaoke sessions.

See! I should have been an engineer dammit!