I’m 1,350 miles away from home. I’m surrounded by 1,300 people, practically all of them neurotypical, from uppity posh socioeconomic backgrounds, full of White Whines and First World Problems. My view out the third floor of an equally posh hotel in downtown Los Angeles should be pretty cool, but the stubborn-hanging haze obscures all but the silhouette outlines of buildings. And I still have 45 minutes before our next session.
But, like all of the privileged doctors attending this conference, I have an iPhone and it has become trendy to criticize the burial of one’s face into one, but increasingly socially acceptable to actually (continue to) do so, so what the hell.
I’d rather talk to y’all anyway. The conference is awesome and I’m super-glad to get to go, but it does not take me long to get peopled out on a good day.
And this has not been a…
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