#burn

Everything hurts.

And it's only been a mere half an hour since I exercised.

You're not meant to feel this sore until the following day... sometimes, I honestly think it's not worth it eating junk food (in large quantities). Exercise reminds you that being a pig is a bitch. But you don't think about it as you scoff your face full, and scoffing my face full for these last two weeks has been most enjoyable (cronuts, durian puffs, yum cha, chocolate cake, Scopa hot chocolates, Strawberry Fare desserts, degustation, hot pot, salmon, steak... half a red velvet cake... possibly a weeeee bit excessive). But now as we approach impending exams and time constraints, I figure I should start living healthily again because soon I will be chained to a desk, rote learning the whole of third year.

I came back from my holidays feeling a wee bit azure over coming back to Neverland. Because Neverland sucks. Well, it just sucks in comparison to home and Christchurch. And I was expecting the flat to be a mess because of my two week absence. So I was sitting on the plane feeling fairly sorry for myself. And I missed my family, friends and E. (because I had only seen him for a day, despite me being in his flat for three days because he was rostered for weekend work). Oh, and my pants were feeling rather tight.

Got off the plane and in typical Neverland style, the airport lights flickered and turned off. And so we marched across the tarmac in pitch black darkness. That amused me greatly. At the baggage carousel, I met a fellow student (actually, she had been sitting next to me the entire flight, but I had nodded off to sleep because I am pretty senile these days). Turns out she was a fellow medical student and we had a good chat while we grabbed our bags and sat in the shuttle into town. Two things eventuated from this conversation. Actually three things did:

1. She asked me why I chose to do medicine. And truth be told... I don't actually know any more. Sure, I could've spun some tale about wanting to help people and blah blah blah. But it sounds so contrived and I know it wasn't the primary reason for me. Does it sound awful to say that it was a matter of pride - I applied for medicine just so I knew I could get in? Which is ironic because E. told me this exactly when he was said, "You really should've stayed with pharmacy" (in the context of starting a family etc etcetc) - and I had hotly denied this.

2. I could honestly tell straight away that she was a Christian. She didn't have to say anything related to God and I could just tell that she was a Christian. Which leads me onto my third point.

3. I felt much better after talking to her - a mere stranger in a shuttle. Sure, we had medicine as a common thing, but I think it was just her warmth and friendliness that made me feel much better. And I think maybe, I'd like to stop being a weeeee bit of a heartless bitch and spread that warmth around.

After I had dragged my suitcase down the flight of rickety stairs, it was comforting to see the corridor light on, which made it much easier to open my front door. And the flat was clean! and tidy! and the rubbish had been taken out! and all my flatmates were home (all five of us - cackle). The flat was warm, I was enveloped in a massive hug from A. and I had a good chat to M. And everything my mum gave me fit into the freezer (which is a miracle in itself because we have a tiny freezer between the four of us).

And suddenly, Neverland didn't seem so Neverlandish in that instant.