so it’s just me, here, and my watch ticking.

my watch is small and gold and beautiful, and it ticks so loud. it’s my mother’s watch, which she has given to me on permanent loan since i borrowed it once and fell in love with it. i’m not sure exactly how old it is, but she wore it when she was in nursing school. i like wearing it because of that. i like knowing that the watch i’m wearing is the same one my mom used as a brand-new nursing student, taking care of patients for the first time.

but wearing the watch has also given me another nervous habit. no, knuckle-cracking, foot-shaking, hair-twirling and lip-chewing were not enough. to that list i have now added taking off my watch and winding it about every five seconds. and honestly, i don’t know what i have to be nervous about. i’m not sticking people in the arm with needles or watching surgery or breaking bad news to women with breast cancer. and yet i wind and crack and shake and chew and twirl over nothing. every tick of this watch reminds me that i am a wuss.


oh. and a mosquito just fizzled up and died in the halogen lamp behind me.