Rehearsed lines, perfectly ironed shirts

Lists of strength and weaknesses memorized.

Butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Artificial smile planted on my face

I prepare myself for the greatest performance of my life.

I must show just the right amount of confidence, the perfect dose of humility, the right amount of ration.

Be well read in most topics, be comfortable for 8 hours in a suit and uncomfortable heels.

Show interest on research I can barely remember.

And some how in a couple of interviews convince everyone that I am fit to be a doctor.

Surely Shakespeare must have felt this way before his first play was performed.

Moliere must have experienced this sick feeling before his first performance.

A matador must have his heart pounding in his chest this hard before going in the ring.

“Hush now” I tell the still voice inside, “I was born to do this!”


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