"Your work has become flaccid and uninspired," Dr. It's been going downhill for a bit longer than 'suddenly'. Yeah, that's an amusing notion- 'Suddenly realize'. It's probably not normal to be in your second year of Med School, a place where you have been excelling, and then suddenly realize your academic decline is because of burnout.
You get plenty of definitions of normality according to TV and social media, or so I hear I don't do much of either. But normal by, say, societal standards? That's the question. Let me qualify a bit: It's not like I have extra limbs or a penchant for replacing reality with my own version of it. What the fuck is normal anyway? I've asked myself this for years, because I really don't know. I'll just be in a different moment, and indulge my brain. Not today though, my brain is too busy puzzling. I get it surrounded by random metal and rust, and the faint hint of old fuel. Some people get it in parks, or bowling alleys, maybe in old, wooden pizza parlors but not me. There's a smell here, a feel of rightness.
Usually I can clear my mind, be in the moment, empty myself. This car underneath me has a lot of style, which is probably why I like it, because I'm often told I don't have any style whatsoever. But occasionally something with style is discovered. Most of the junk here is just that, junk. I'm perched on the hood of something old, with angles and fins. Of course, coming to a massive, abandoned scrap yard to meditate and clear my head doesn't seem quite normal either, but I've been coming here for a long time. That's why I'm here my mood always improves in this place, well, usually. Even though this day didn't register as high on the shitty-o-meter as the more recent one I just described, it still sucked pretty hard. I'd had a shitty day, and it wasn't even noon yet. That, right there, pretty much encompasses everything about me that can be considered 'normal'. I'm twenty-four years old, and I live in San Diego. My name is Min-Su Li, but nearly everyone calls me Lee.
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