The Horror

There comes a time in every medical student's life when they realize that something horrible has happened. There you are. Going about your day. Taking care of errands and minding your own business with a cheerful smile (and maybe a caffeine charged eye twitch) when it hits you. You have lost the ability to interact with your fellow man in a normal, non-school related, scenario. You my friend, are a social freak. Nice. 

While there have been subtle hints throughout the past year that this was happening, I refused to believe the seriousness of the matter until this past week while I was at the grocery store. 

There I was, with real pants on and everything, standing in line at the check out counter. I had finagled exactly 1.5 hours into my test-week study schedule to shower and restock my food supplies. I was on time and mishap free when the following scene occurred.

Lady in front of me finishes checking out, grabs her purchases, and exits the store. 

The elderly cashier, let's call her Grace, turns to me and smiles a warm smile. A smile filled with the hope and promise of a pleasant interaction with a freshly-showered, sane-looking, mid-twenties female. Notice the "sane-looking" part. You see, this story takes place on Monday. And I hadn't really been interacting with people for about five days at that point. Every day I had been holed up in my house, buried under my mountain of books, only speaking to my roommate and my cat (but mostly my cat). Needless to say, at this point, my social skills were a bit off. 

So, when Grace looked at me, smiled and extended her hand to take my shopper rewards card, my idiot hermit brain interpreted that as something different. And while I did hand her my rewards card (social cue accepted, appropriate response executed), I also began introducing myself as a second year medical student who was about to take Grace's medical history (social cue misinterpreted, abort ABORT).

I got half way through my name when I realized what I was doing. By that point poor, sweet Grace's face had morphed into a mixture of confusion and pity, with just a hint of fear. 

But don't worry, friends. I still have two and a half years left before I'm responsible for the health and well being of another human. 

*Though, I'd still make a mental note to steer clear of teaching hospitals come June of 2017. And also, for that matter, grocery stores.