And the shape of their goneness will flare up anew.

According to Facebook, seven years ago I was starting my first shift at the Animal Emergency Clinic of Central Texas. I have so many feelings about this.

That job dramatically changed my life, almost exclusively for the better. It introduced me to some of the best people I'll ever know, and opened far stranger doors than I'd have ever thought possible. My coworkers there introduced me to the Austin bike community, drank margaritas with me on Monday mornings, and were the people I went to as my marriage was dissolving in painful, violent ways. They were the people I went to as the clinic was dissolving in painful, violent ways. Even after the clinic collapsed and I left Austin, the ripples continued outward; I moved to Portland and started a job at an emergency hospital here, which enabled me to live in my first ever solo apartment, and is where I met Trish, and is where I decided that job fucking sucked and it was time to go back to school.

So thank you, Dr. Christy, for the opportunity. I wish there was more sweet than bitter in my memories of that place, especially towards the end. But maybe in another seven years I'll get there.

Goddamn, I miss those people.