Through the tedious and trivial work, I still manage to coordinate a home-cooked Valentine's Day dinner. She may be one of the better things I've ever had in my life, I just need her to open up more. Time will aid in that, but right now we're where we are supposed to be at, and I refuse to rush it. The car's still out of commission, waiting on one part, the first big one I get to install, then I need to run it to a performance shop to check on all of the parts. The Kenne Bell is trickling oil while under load, fairly common issue, but replacing the seals is a fairly involved process, one I don't trust myself with. When the system costs $2 grand and the engine rebuild would be three or four times that, a man has to know when to step back and accept that there's no shame in letting someone else handle it.
These records are like sieves. Or paper snowflakes. So many holes in these students' records, it's hard to tell whether these future doctors are being negligent or deceptive. But that's why I'm changing my rate! Hospital Corpsman Third Class is now Medical Detective Third Class! Somehow, I don't think the Navy is going to accept my imaginary job classifier.
More tedium to attend to.
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