Bathroom Monologue: Tomorrow Man

"I’m not going to magically become competent tomorrow. That’s not the point. When all us residents run around celebrating like we’re becoming adults, we’re indulging in metaphor. We changed the bedpans and fixed the blood bags. We oversaw the surgery and broke the news to the widow. We earned our God-damned metaphors. I’m already competent, which is why I’ve been covering your rounds while you sneak off to hit on your ex. Tomorrow, do I transform some magic being? The Tomorrow Man, who’s never worried his diagnosis is wrong? Whose every patient has deluxe insurance to cover whatever she needs? No. Tomorrow I have more responsibilities, I get paid better, guaranteed steady employment, and you off my shoulder every time I meet a new patient. I will be no smarter, no braver, and no more confident than I am tonight. The Tomorrow Man will be the same guy I am every day. But if I want to put a red and yellow ‘T’ in the Superman font on my lapel, I can. Because I’ve earned that. So put on a party hat or run back to Sharon. Tell her I said hi and to close your blinds."