I am human.

I'm not being arrogant and I'm not trying say I'm unique here. I'm just listing facts.

I have a lot of skills.
I have a lot of energy.
I have even more ideas.
My thoughts are like an infinite movie reel.
I'm highly motivated.
I'm insanely passionate.
I have a really great attitude.
I will never be content.
I don't like to burden others when I am having a tough time, mad, anxious or stressed (except for those select few...you know who you are.)
But I do struggle at times.

I enjoy comedy.
I strive to be funny.
I am extremely cynical.
I could talk {write} all day.
The more I make fun of something...
...the more I love it.

I am a comedian.

I am an extrovert.
I am a people person, despite aforementioned cynicism.
I could watch people all day.
I can find a pattern in almost anything. (I am Sherlock.)
I am a problem solver.
Above all, I am run by logic over emotion. Anger being my biggest Achilles heel.
I am competitive.
I am fair.

I get angry at expectation, false assumptions and incorrect observations.
I appreciate idiosyncrasies.
I admire accountability.
I prefer flexibility.
I promote honesty over loyalty.
I like to present things as they truly are, albeit with a dramatic flare at times.
I cannot tell a lie.
I am confident.

My passion is to help others, both emotionally and physically.
I spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to obtain my education.
An education for which I took an oath to "do no harm".
All day I try to make decisions in the best interest of other people.
Only to be told my service wasn't worth paying for...
...to be berated.
I get misplaced anger all day long.
Yet, I smile.
I continue to help.
I hope to be compassionate.
I work REALLY hard to figure out a kind way to tell someone they are overweight. Their smoking is a problem. Their drinking is a problem. Their genetics is a problem. They have a virus. They have cancer. Their fatigue is actually depression. They need to talk to someone to manage their stress. Their pain is chronic. They need surgery. They need to go to the ER.
I am a doctor.

I don't see dollar signs.
I see people.
I wish everyone could enjoy life and all it has to offer.
I wish everyone could see their potential and reach for it.
I think I could have been an Olympian.
I sometimes think I still can...

I am an athlete.


As much as I wish I didn't, I care...
...I care too much.
About everything, all the time.
I love to the point of smothering.
I believe firmly in tough love.

I am a mom.

I adapt.
I am self-reliant. This is different than selfish.
I love. A lot. All the time. Intensely.
I am happy.

I am human.

The Guerilla Gardener

There is a man who lives in the somewhat dilapidated apartments behind my office. These apartments are surrounded by a parking lot, another parking lot, and office buildings. There is quite a lack of green space. I would not ever describe this man as well-kempt. I'm not sure I would go to the extreme of calling him filthy, or even dirty, but I might guess that he's not purchased new clothing, any time real recent. He never appears drunken, or disheveled. In fact, he always seems completely lucid and content. I'm not sure I'd go so far as to say "happy" as he tends to have a more serious presence about him, but conversations with this man are very pleasant. If I had to guess, he might be a painter, or a "handy-man". Someone in these apartments is a "junk collector", for all I know, it's him. But there is one skill I'm 100% sure he possesses: gardening.

This man starts working on his garden in February. He loves on it, covers it with recyclables for freezing weather, waters it, preens it, weeds it. Every day. It flourishes. It is beautiful. It brightens my morning every time I park my car. At the same time, it also causes a sharp pang of guilt as my bumper covers, breaks or destroys some stems, nearly every morning. Because of this aforementioned complete lack of green space, this man is gardening on a 1.5 foot (at most) road verge. I have to pull up as close as possible, because this now beautiful and bustling garden separates our extremely cramped backside office parking from their apartment parking lot. This verge is so small, if it weren't now filled with flowers of all sorts, you might not even notice it.

I look at this man in awe. I silently thank him multiple times through the Spring and Summer, even Fall. He has brought wildlife to a PARKING LOT. This morning, there were Monarch butterflies. Through the Spring and Summer there are little Yellow Warblers (or Finches). And now the Hummingbirds are arriving to feast on the Morning Glories. There is a constant buzz from the bees, and many other small types of insect and butterflies. I once asked if he was hired to do this, and he just laughed at me. I felt it was a silly question as well. I would have been flabbergasted to hear that the owner of these seemingly forsaken apartments would hire someone to plant flowers, literally in the cracks of the parking lot.

I engaged him in conversation again, recently. I found out that he has affectionately and appropriately been named by his friends: "The Guerrilla Gardener". His unconventional tactics in gardening surprise me on a daily basis. We all reap the benefits of the beauty in our lot. I've seen some of the nurses and staff picking flowers, which the Guerrilla Gardener has always kindly suggested we do; "They're just going to wilt away eventually. There are plenty. You might as well take them home and enjoy them."

I think I love this garden a little bit more than I should because of this modest and humble man. I hope he knows how much we all admire his work. But I don't think he really cares if we do...

...amazing.