Junk Food & Six Packs

I find that when i have nothing better to do i tend to eat. Whats really aggravating is opening the fridge door to find that there's literally nothing that is edible or within it best-before date. Of course if I've got nothing better to do, you'd think id go shopping, but no, i don't think this way. Also, after leaving uni, I've really stopped cooking... well i never really started cooking when i was at uni, but that doesn't matter now. What matters is that I'm eating more junk food than ever before, and NO, chocolate or ice-cream is not classed as junk, and who ever says otherwise is Blasphemous!

So, to stop my 147 pounds and size 30 waist turning rapidly into 170 and 38, I've 'decided' to join the local gym. Aren't i good!? Well i will be when i actually join. Currently I'm envisioning wash-board abs with my pectoralis major muscles clearly defined and biceps/triceps well toned. Oh and don't forget the butt and legs. OK, yes all the above will never happen, but I've got to aim high! I've also 'decided' to go swimming as well. Maybe 'go' is the wrong word, i think 'learn' is better. My last swimming experience left me nearly dead, with two lungs full of chlorine tasting water... even though i could stand up on my toes in the deep end. I'm also going to invest in some goggles, not the ones you have to spit in, the other type. That way may contact lenses won't slip out of my eyes and render me blind, clever huh! When it happens I'll post a picture of my six-pack... umm don't expect it anytime this decade... but it will happen... .

Sinister Grannies

Life at home is still kinda dull... well i suppose i can't expect it to be all glitter like Justin T's or umm... (god i can't think of another male celebrity!) ... Paris Hilton.

Had a picnic and got lost in the maze for half an hour at the local park. Embarrassing when you realise it’s suppose to be for kids and even worst when you get caught cheating, climbing over the 2 metre fence covered in nettles! So itching all over, I finally decided to play in the sand pit with my baby nephew. I promptly decided it’d be fun to bury him in the sand, shoulder deep, didn’t want the poor guy to suffocate. Finishing my proudly made hole in the ground, I turned round to ask him if he was ready to get buried, but he was no-where to be found…! Instead, I came face-to-face with a 6 year old girl with an excited look in her eyes and who promptly spun round and said, “Grandma can I get buried?”, and then indicated to me. I swear, if looks could kill, my ashes would have been picked up by the wind and scattered around the park there and then. Didn’t realise old grannies could be so sinister looking! With my hole in the ground left behind, I retreated back to the family with the continuing glare from the old granny eating a new hole in my back.

Having written this post, I’ve come to the realisation that, being resorted to writing about old grannies, your life cannot get more dreary… how pathetic!

Tangles Of Life

If I could sum up my life in a single picture it would have to be this one, a big fat tangle:

Like when your headphones are all tangled up. How do they get that way, when you leave them all nice and straight. It's as though they come to life whilst you're sleeping or away and decide to play 'hide-en-seek'. Except there's nowhere for them to hide since they're attached to each other. So they just end up getting into a mess and later cause a great deal of frustration when you find them!

And when you finally straighten yourself out, you wonder about the meaning of life, was it worth getting all those tangles straightened out??:

And sometimes... well you just got to search for it else where:

... and wish for the best...

And maybe, just maybe, things start happening. The jigsaw puzzle of your life starts falling into place, and you know gleefully that your pet dog called Snowy hasn't swallowed a piece! Finally you can see the whole picture, and you think to yourself that at last your dreams can actually come true:

But life isn't as simple as that. One too many sugar-rushes to the head start to make you curious. Questions about your kingdom full of chocolate and worst, your life:

... and then bad things start to happen. You start to resent those around you, especially all those annoying silly people with their fake smiles:

... thus, you come to the conclusion that if you were content with what you previously had before, your life wouldn't be in a big tangle once again, and you therefore wouldn't be forced to live with all the crazy people of the world... except there's no one left. Your only friends are the tablets you stumble upon, which help make you lucid, and your final thoughts are that at least you didn't succumb to Alzheimer's:

(Pictures produced by Edward Monkton)

... is there such a thing as destiny??... I'm still searching for my jigsaw pieces.

Discombobulated & Accidental Farts

Who the hell is Tom Jones & what the heck is a bell-end or a muff-diver for that matter?!? Yet again i was the 'innocent kid' at work, who apparently has no 'life experience'. I know for a fact that they were laughing at me and not with me, since i wasn't laughing at all. I was more discombobulated than anything else. Of course i don't take these things seriously... how can you when your work-colleagues look at you in shock and disbelief to then keel over with laughter and let out an accidental fart! However, one advantage is that my little bubble of thought is steadily expanding and one day it will burst and I'll no longer be as naive.

Med School Excitement

Iv decided to start on a positive note today. So no moaning or complaining today, well... maybe just one when it tickles my fancy. My excitement of going to med school is returning, just 5 months left! Waiting for an offer was agonisingly painful, but at the same time a miniature adrenaline rush. I'm sure most people have felt it before, waking up with anticipation, with the 'will it be today' question running through their minds. Then taking those careful steps downstairs and peering round the corner at the space directly below the letter box, or that one heart pounding 'click' on UCAS Track, eyes squeezed shut, afraid to face the possible reality of rejection.

Being my second attempt at the whole med school cycle, receiving an offer letter I thought it would be the best day of my life. Well... it wasn't. Days later I was still expecting a 'We are sorry, UCAS has experienced a computer glitch, your offer no longer remains valid' letter. Of course it never came ... but neither did the excitement part, the jumping up and down like a mad monkey tasting its first ripe banana. It was more a relief, the releasing of a 4 yr held-in breath, knowing I didn't have to spend another year at home, that my life could finally begin.

Whether I like it or not I'll soon be apart of that transparent group known as 'medics', the one people supposedly respect and other hate. I'll get to interact with real patients and make a fool of myself in front of them whilst seriously pretending they haven't noticed, when in fact their skin crawls at my mere touch, afraid I'll suture their other eye shut instead. Whats even more exciting is that I get the chance of doing that balancing trick you see in ER and Grey's Anatomy, with the stethoscope around your neck, whilst at the same time attempting to running at lightning speed to get to that last danish pastry in the cafeteria .

A Dollop Full Of Shite

Working on a Sunday isn't very exciting, actually its right down annoying. Whats even worst is when you start at 7:30am! The bleeding birds are awake outside at this time, but its only to take their morning shite on my 'day-before' cleaned car, you'd think they'd have something better to do this early in the morning?!

How would they like it if I did it in their nest... every day! Not a pleasant thought, especially since I'd fall and break my neck climbing the huge tree. The neighbours would find me with my pants around my ankles and no doubt full of shit intended for the nest. Suppose I should be grateful I have a car, clean or filthy...

My work is far from engaging. It usually involves watching lots of Jeremy Kyle and filling out a few medical forms whilst secretly reading 'Full House' or 'Best' bought from the local Tesco's. Don't you just love the problem pages and all those true stories, makes you own life feel practically normal or at least adds a cheap frill to your day. A recent issue involved a woman finding her long lost family 'at the shops'! Imagine going round to your corner shop for bread and milk, to instead take home a whole extended family (plus 10 pints of milk and 5 loafs of bread), I mean, if one mouth wasn't enough to feed!

For all this hard work I get paid pittance, and yet I have an honours degree under my belt and every day I bring all my non-existent life experience to work for my fellow co-workers to benefit from. The world is an unjust place!

A Third Lung

Have you ever felt like screaming at the top of your lungs like a little girl with pig tails and freckles?? Well that's exactly what i feel like doing, although without the pigtails, freckles and a sex change. I can literally feel the hair on my head turning grey and my head spinning like a tumble dryer. I find it almost impossible to escape from this imprisonment within my own head.

So whats brought it all on? Well... the ice-cream shop was shut, so i couldn't have my favourite mint-choc-chip ice-cream for starters. Those of you who are caffeine addicts and who don't get their daily fix, will know exactly how i feel. Sugar, specifically in the shape of ice-cream on a cone is the bane of my existence. Chocolate is a close second and a suitable alternative. Also the fact that I'm stuck at home with the parents is really doing my nut in! After spending three years at university with all the freedom in the world, its no wonder I'm going crazy now! My only respite is that in another 5 months I'll soon be back at uni starting my second undergraduate degree in Medicine... a whole 5 years of practical 'me' time!!

OK, so i don't have it that bad, rent free and access to daddy's credit card. However, life still seems like a enclosed box to me with no breathing space. Hence, the start of this blog thingy, a third lung, making it easier to breath in this semi-glamorous prison of mine.