Today my uterus decided to rebel against its master. But I am so thankful that it decided to pick this week as opposed to next Tuesday because I could not think straight at all due to the pain today.


Have also decided that pimples are like the hydra... pop one and another seven pop up in the place of it. Heinous motherf*ckers...

I hate acne. Aarrrrrgh why must you come back to plague me AFTER adolescence?

I think I've made my mind up. Also, I have the queerest feeling in the world: I am both dreading and looking forward to next Tuesday.

I should stop grumbling when life is like "Oh hey, here are two equally delicious looking dishes. Pick one." Well, that wasn't an entirely accurate portrayal of my life, but it's close enough. The boss has made a formal job offer for me to stay on... and the pay is much above what newly registered pharmacists earn. It's like... an iPhone in one week.


On the other hand, I don't want to regret my choice in five years time when (if) I am a spinster with a million iPhones (cats). I know that a degree in Medicine will stimulate me and will continue to for the rest of my life. Thing is, if I do end up with a family, I refuse to do the doctor thing and the mum thing half arsed. Which is what I will invariably end up doing because I can't see the two co-existing that well. Which leads me to the conversation I had with E. this evening:

E: Oh snap. Are you leaning towards anything at the moment?
G: Nooooooooooo. Well, I would be if you would propose already
E: Even if I was Christian right now, I wouldn't propose.......


... because facebook proposals suck

sfdlkdsflkdsfkljsfdlkjsdflkjsfdlkjfdsjklfdsjklfsdjkl must tear out hair in contemplation of life and goals in life. Also, the episode of Downton Abbey really put me off having children. I don't want eclampsia, thanks very much. Although, this is 2012 and Downton Abbey was set in 1920 when they didn't use IV magnesium, labetalol and salbutamol for the treatment of eclampsia. Oh, and a caesarian delivery, thanks.

Two things make me miss the North Island: the lack of Ya pears and Chinese vegetables. 

Also, threw a shit fit at my flatmates because I got sick of cleaning up the kitchen after them. Needless to say, it is now supremely awkward. 

I swear, I am going THROTTLE the imbeciles in the flat next door if they keep on pumping up their STUPID bass at 12:20am. Luckily, I don't have exams but I would ideally like a good night's sleep. Clearly they don't have exams because they probably would've failed all the internals.



I hope it rains and lightning tears apart their house.

Well, I got yelled at by a patient today. Granted, she has a reputation for being a grump, but today she pretty much unleashed it. No swear words, thank goodness but pretty much "I'm travelling today... how you could forget those two repeats?" and "I wasted so much time thinking it was my fault that I couldn't find them... but it was actually YOUR fault" and "Now I have to walk to the bus stop because I missed my ride" and the like.



It's quite odd having someone rant at you. Needless to say, I burst into tears as soon as she huffed and puffed her way out of the pharmacy. It was deeply mortifying but at least I was pretty much left alone for the entire afternoon. Which was a nice change from the norm.

Woke up this morning with E's pajama top wrapped around my waist. It was almost as satisfying as having his actual arm wrapped around my waist. Keyword being almost.

I'd do a countdown, but coincidentally, the day of our joyous reunion is soured by the four hour horror that is Assessment Centre... a.k.a. the day where people decide whether or not I deserve to be in a higher pay bracket. We're looking at a 100% increase of my hourly wage here...


Also... the words 'four hour horror' seem to flow quite nicely. Probably because of the repetition of the various 'O's, 'U's and 'R's.

Damn it, E! Why can't you be taller? Found the cutest pair of black platform sandals for only $15... and I can't buy them because I would tower above him. Grrrrrrrrrrr

I cannot WAIT till after Assessment Centre... I can finally paint my nails again. They look so naked without any colour, the poor babies. And they've finally stopped peeling. Yusssssssssss

You and I, we may not be picture perfect. But we fit perfectly together in our own quirky little way.

Domperidone can be used to treat GORD that is non responsive to histamine receptor antagonists. I thought it was weird when I saw it on a script, but hey, you learn something new everyday.

Also, less than a month until I see E!!! (also, less than a month before Assessment Day, a.k.a. the day of doom, but we're ignoring that)

Sometimes, I feel too content and happy and I miss angst. Then I realise that I should probably stop spiralling down in this rather destructive thought pattern and ruin my own happiness.

So there you go, E. You have successfully made me into one happy marshmallow. I don't know how you managed it despite my trust issues, but I am incredibly content, even though you are not here with me.

I need alone time. Well, I just need to sleep in. Daylight saving does my head in and I wake up feeling that my quality of sleep is rather shoddy.

I am refusing to play any more piano until after Assessment Centre. And B. can play as much as he wants until then because I honestly cannot be bothered trying to play as well as him (admittedly, he plays very well). Bro, if you want to play, then by all means. Unfortunately, Aunty picked me. Sucks to be you. 

Thank you God for a good day at work today. I really needed that breath of air or I was going to drown.


Have also come to the conclusion that New Zealanders are becoming increasingly xenophobic. The winner of the AMP People's Choice Scholarship was won by a school girl of Palestinian ethnicity. The things I have been reading just make me sick. People are claiming that this girl's cause was advertised on Palestinian radio  so apparently hordes of "angry Muslims" voted for this individual and that AMP caved due to "terrorist bombing" fears. Might I mention that the runner-up was a Pakeha school girl who "wanted to be New Zealand's best cardiothoracic surgeon"? Darling, that was my dream too. Unfortunately, I didn't get into medicine and there is no certainty that you will too. People need to grasp that.
And listen to yourselves! Apparently curing diseases is better than helping old people. That is not a valid reason as to why one girl's cause was better than the other. One day your flesh will wane, and heaven forbid that your grandchildren will one day refuse to help you simply because you are senile.

Aaaargh. Note to self: must buy size 8 now. May have to take dress in.