On the Apple Post that Was

Sometimes, I think things are meant to be, which is a big statement of faith coming from me. About two years ago, I wrote a post about the post that never was. I bitched about not being able to pick apples and posted a photo or two. Yet, the post I was looking for never materialized, but that’s because it wasn’t the time for it yet.

Very much like “fetch”, we can’t make things happen.

The apple post, it turns out, was waiting in an apple orchard halfway across the country. There are still no cherubs to be found (sorry, friends, you ain’t that cute). The people? Friends/classmates/fellow survivors. It’s funny, the kinship that forms between people under extreme stress. We came from all over the country and with different journeys that reached this common pathway. I am so damn glad I know these people, because medical school wouldn’t be survivable without them.

We’re usually overworked, overcaffinated, and underrested. Our entire education is a massive data dump, because if they painstakingly took time to make sure we learned every nuance and understood every detail, the classroom portion of med school would take 10 years or more. We are constantly buried in information and relaxation is a choice. It’s always a choice, because there’s more to be done.

Yet, we make that choice or burnout will devastate us. There’s no time to recover or rest, so we have to “balance”. We hate that fucking word. Not because it isn’t good advice, but balance always comes as a price. Whether it’s studying, doing laundry, or eating, there is always something we choose not to do.

When I mentioned this blog or the writing gig at CityBeat before school, people urged me to not let go of my hobbies. Keep at it, they said. It will keep you grounded, they said. The hilarious thing is that I can’t really write about food because it ceased to be my hobby. I thought I couldn’t write about my life because it’s fun, but not incredibly interesting to anyone but me. Then I realized this: I really don’t give a fuck whether anyone else thinks my life is interesting or not. I like to write and this is my place to do it.

I go through these binges of what this blog is about and one of the turning points was when my post on cheesecake pops went viral on Pinterest. I’ve learned how to take better photos, bought new props, tried harder to create my own recipes (or at least attribute them correctly), only to find that my most popular post is about cheesecake dunked into chocolate and rolled with Butterfingers.

Don’t get me wrong, they’re insanely good. On the other hand, what the hell? That’s the post that gets the most love? Furthermore, people started stealing my fucking content. Really? There are better things on my bloody site you can steal and you take some badly taken shots that are too close for anyone’s good taste. Hell, I’ve taken better shots drunk and on my phone in the dark. How little imagination or time do you have if you’re going to steal that shit?

I lost my mojo after that. I lost Bear, too. I moved away, changed and grew as a person, and lost touch with what used to be. I began to become tired… nay, impatient… with things that seemed okay before. I lost touch with old friends as I became closer and closer to new ones.

I stopped writing. I stopped cooking for fun, except treats for our small group sessions. I knew I needed to come back to Meandering Eats, but I kept worrying about lots of stupid things. I worried my content wasn’t good enough. I worried about my shit being stolen. I worried about what people might think about the changes in direction. I don’t cook new things and don’t eat out a ton, so what can I talk about?

I guess I’m going to write about what I know. Like I said in that previous apple post, it’ll still be yarns about life with food as the sideshow. I love pictures, so there will be those. The stories are always there and maybe that’s the hobby I need to pursue: storytelling.

So, here’s the apple post that was. Exhausted med students and a rare weekend off. We had quizzes on Friday for that particular organ system block, so weekends were “free”. We went apple picking and found nothing due to severe hail damage. The cider doughnuts were awesome. The sky was endless and beautiful. I spend 24-7 with these people and I am so bloody grateful for them.

That’s all for now. I’ll try to write about something new soon.