Run. Run. Runaway Run.

I've been feeling unusually and exceptionally tired these few days. Don't know why. Especially since I don't have anything in particular to do. Probably because I've been running. Running from responsibilities. Running to sort things out. Runing away from sorting things out. Running from people.

When the only place I should be running towards is into His presence.

I've finally cleared up my backlog of emails I've been running from. Apologies to all those who have suffered as a result of my tardiness. I also had to face up to my timetable, and to stare at what lies ahead of me for the next 3 years.

It is absolutely terrifying.

I hadn't realised it. I don't even feel ready. Mentally or emotionally. For what is to come.

And it seems like its going to be a nonstop barrage of information to take onboard for the next 3 years. And I will have to work hard. Very hard. [I really don't normally. I just do enough to get by.] But it seems like I have to buckle down to exceptionally hard work.

Sigh.

And I haven't even solved my immediate problem of accomodation.

Talk about times when I have to rely on God fully for strength. I have no other way.

Hangover

They say there's always a first for everything.

I have been truly humbled.
By the deceptive long island tea

Part of me always prided myself on the fact that I would NEVER puke. That I would know my limits.

That I had the power, mentally, to will away the effects of any drug. Alcohol included.

I know now that it isn't true. I'm not a superhuman. As much as I'd like to think I am in many ways. My fragile ego, and my body were hurt in last night's events. But for those precious few minutes before I knew I was gone, it was great. I had entered into that semi-hallucinatory state that people generally called "being high". But that didn't last too long last night, before I hit the pissed drunk "seh" stage. Trust me, the painful aftermath is too high a price to pay for such an intensity of high.

Part of me feels wracked with guilt. For having to let my friends see me that way. I think it was a sorry and rather comical sight for them to see me beating myself up.

But as always, it could have been worse without these same friends around to look out for me. Friends who endured the grotesque sight of me spilling my guts in more ways than one [now I know why they call it that!], who sat by me to hold my hair away when I puked, who held my hand when I couldn't walk, who tried to make silly conversation in an attempt to keep me sober and those who assured me that what was done in a club, stays in the club. It doesn't. I wonder if they were reminding me or just reassuring themselves when they said it ;)

Hey well, when people used to ask me the question, "Have you been drunk before?". I hesitate... and go... well... kinda, yes. But I didn't have a clue what I was on about. And I wished that it had stayed that way. But now I know how it feels like, I don't like it one bit.

I'll just never want to do this again.
I'll stick to single shots, and not be a superhero.

I'm sorry guys. I really am. I wish I could take it all back.

Wash Your Hands. PLEASE.

Good gracious. I'm not ready for parenting. But I know some parents who definitely aren't.

Overhead in the toilet.

Mother rebuking daughter washing her hands at the sink, after having come out from the toilet.

"Girl arh... don't need to use soap larh! See larh... use soap take so long. Just use water can already!"

$%$^$%$%$!!@@$@!$


If I were feeling more brash. I'd have said.


"Aunty arh... Don't use soap and wash hands, you might as well stick your hand down the toilet bowl before flushing it."


But I was just so shocked that my only response was shooting the dirtiest look I possibly could to the ignorant nicompoop of a mother.

Seriously people.

I'm not being anal just because I'm a medical student.

But honestly, pleaaaase wash your hands WITH SOAP before coming out of the toilet. Don't just flick on a few sprays of water. It reaaaally is useless.

I don't understand why people don't wash with soap?

Is it...

a) the sheer inconvenience of pumping twice and then taking 20 extra seconds to make sure you're hands are not big bad bug traps? are you afraid your date might take off in that 20 extra seconds?

b) the psychological fear of people thinking you've just done a "big one" in a public place, and therefore not wanting to use soap?

c) the fact that people are so thick to believe in the antibacterial powers of tap water? There is fluoride, but no chlorine from our taps thankewverymuch.

I'm at a lost for words. Ugh.

Finally.

I'm tired.
Its been a roller-coaster of a summer. Emotionally and physically. But I guess its the emotions that have drained me more.

I'm finally done with my attachment at TTSH.
Its bittersweet almost. And I'm left with far too many thoughts. And as usual, I'm afraid that it'd conveniently leach away. But I'm gonna take a chance and think about it later. My middle name is Procrastination.

I've got 2 whole weeks to methodically think through my summer, my very packed summer, my entire 3rd year, and my coming BSc year.
Thats alot to think through.

I'm looking forward to it. A nice break.
Not gonna have very much of this in the future.