I’m well into my 3rd month of being a medical student… On my second folder of lecture notes/important stuff and so far no major disasters apart from possibly this weekend at work…
For who I’d like to thank Captain Morgans spiced rum for my horrific Saturday (and Sunday) at work…
I fell asleep on the tube, like full on blacked out asleep and woke up at the end of the metropolitan line, completely dazed and no knowing where I was.
During this “Special time” I had a very nice man guide me to the correct train back towards my place of work who nicely told me “Have a cup of coffee and not to fall asleep and get lost again”
Luckily, special moment aside I was
only 45 minutes late and even offered to work late/through my lunch break, but due to my boss having literally NO sense of humour, the day got worse
We have these “Naughty girl” late slips at work and you have to fill in the excuse so only telling the truth like the angel
Or in my post alcoholic delusional state I put down as my reason for being late as:
Captain Morgans spiced Rum…
It was literally as if I had killed his puppy… The world around me exploded…
Safe to say my notice is handed in and I’ll be leaving by x-mas…
Well apart from that minor disaster, it’s been a fun month!
I’ve had to learn so so so so so much, my brain is exploding, I’m forgetting how to spell my name and do simple things. Multitasking is proving difficult…
There are only so many Dirty pneumonic I can remember!!
I feel like I’ve actually been educated at a school where people don’t set fire to the tree line because they’ve been caught smoking a joint or draw a giant penis on a ceiling of a classroom or the rugby field…
I actually feel slightly smart… and getting 74% in a recent coursework as bought back my faith in actually passing this year!
But if medical school doesn’t work out I have my plan B ready and waiting…
Amount of times I’ve cursed biochemistry and its complete ability to make any sort of sense to me: 1000’s (Don’t even mention Histology… It’s all too frikin PINK!)
Times I got drunk: 4
Started-on by members of the Netball team: 1
Number of Times I “Shat myself” from being started on my numerous netball girls: 1
Money spent: fuck knows
Amount of times nearly fired from being a retail slave: 2
Number of times I’ve thought holy shit what am I doing here: Daily
ppphhfffff, I need a new job – Anyone know anything about tutoring or freelance in London?
… Until Next time!