(Clara)
By Friday evening, I had officially reached the end of my patience.
Not with medical school.
Not with research.
Not even with the endless assignments that seemed determined to consume every free moment of my life.
I had reached the end of my patience with myself.
The realization arrived while I sat at the dining table surrounded by textbooks, research papers, color-coded notes, and enough empty coffee cups to concern a cardiologist.
Three hours.
I had been sitting there for nearly three hours and somehow I had accomplished almost nothing.
The laptop screen glowed in front of me.
The same paragraph remained open.
The same paragraph I had been attempting to read for the last fifteen minutes.
Possibly longer.
At this point, time had become difficult to measure.
With a fr
