#blah

Frustration. This is the general consensus. Or perhaps because I am currently in the midst of a six month state of perpetual PMS. I think my mother would almost prefer me to be actually pregnant, because then at least she would know the cause of my amenorrhoea. 

Yes, three sentences in and I've already decided to discuss my menstrual cycle. But hey, this is the place for such things, no?

Personally, I'm rather stoked to be exempt from the tidings of the monthly red tide because I save so much money. And also, who actually enjoys getting their period? My mother however, has decided that I have starved myself into state of secondary amenorrhoea. Or something is horribly wrong with being a pseudo-vegetarian. Personally, where is the logic in this? Vegetarians do not suffer from secondary amenorrhoea.

Blaarrrgh.

Also, fingertipsssssy close. Yes, so close - yet so far away. One could wonder why I even bother. Truth be told, I don't know. Perhaps obsessing over things is a hereditary thing - my mother obsesses over my lack of menses. I obsess over other trivial things which shouldn't matter anymore. And yet, I find myself almost enjoying winding myself up. I am a masochist of my own heart.

Note to self: must rant about the dying profession of pharmacy when I can be bothered. Because pharmacy is a broken profession. At least, in the community it is.

More pleasant things to think about... 

- fourth year beckons! yesyesyesyes. Except slightly disappointed with the PD no-show this year. And if I find out (which we will in December) that if clinical skills was responsible for this, I will hold Dr. G. accountable for the fact that he cheated me out of $750

- two weeks of bliss with E. in January

- only eight more weeks left in Neverland (where it rains perpetually, even during the summer... I shit you not, pretty sure the vampires of Stephanie Meyer's imagination would find this place just as suitable as Forks as a place to settle in).