I need a bedtime story.

I've been rolling around in bed while staring into darkness for over an hour. Hence, here I am.



So I spent most of the night in the ward earlier today (or yesterday, if you must). Kinda fun, kinda not fun.


What made it not fun:

• Walking and standing for hours. I'm getting used to it but honestly, I wish they provided chairs for us, at each bedside. And not just any chair, those nice huge comfy ones that make you wanna drift into dreamland the moment you land your butt there! Oh. We don't want people sleeping on the job. Okay, bad idea.

• Communication breakdown. It's one thing when you don't understand what your patient is saying, but when they don't understand your questions as well, you can say goodbye to taking a good complete history. Which means, you'll need to make sure you're mentally prepared to get yelled at by the doctors. I don't get why a lot of people here can't speak or understand standard BM. It's our national language for God's sake. Isn't that what they teach everyone in school? I know I sound selfish right now, but it really is ridiculous to expect us to be fluent in the local dialect the moment we set foot here, with words foreign to our ears and whatnot.

• Rude people. There is no reason for them to act like they rule the world and treat everyone else like crap. We're all there to learn or to work. I don't care who you are, be civil and give me a reason to respect you. They teach us ethics in med school, but obviously people forget.
  

• Basically just the pressure. Wanting to make sure everything you do is perfect, yet there will always be something you missed. But this takes some getting used to (a lot, actually), but yea, I'll soon get the hang of it.

What made it fun:

• I can't think of anything at the moment. Hahaha. I guess it's the thrill, that excitement you get. You know, when it finally feels like you're doing something real (doesn't matter if you're still terrible at it), rather than just attending lectures and reading thick-ass books. Tired as you may be, at least you get to go home with some sense of satisfaction.

On another note, I seriously need to do something about this insomnia that's been bugging me for weeks. I've tried warm milk, taking a bath, tiring myself out, watching a movie, nothing seems to work. Someone read me a bedtime story!

Ohya! It's 10.10.10! Nice date to get hitched. Or something eventful like that. =P

Start your mornings with black coffee!

It's one of those rare mornings when I wake up with a smile on my face.

I must say, dreams can be magical! =)
Actually, I'm not sure if magical is really the word, coz it really was about me going for a vacation, in Thailand, by bus.


But that's not the point. Not wanting to be late for class, I rushed to the bathroom, to be greeted by this:


















Yea, I wish it was steaming black coffee too, but no, that's the water they expect us to take our showers with. How lovely.

The water stained the showers, the sinks and the toilets, making it look like a scene from a murder mystery (too bad, no pics).

After letting the water run for what felt like a gazillion years, this is the best we've got:


















Solution:

• Brush teeth and wash face using bottled water.
  
• Don't use the toilet, HOLD IT IN.
  
• Forget about taking a shower, drown yourself in deodorant instead.
• Head to class, pray nobody takes notice.

My first kiss went a little like this...

*muax*

and twist...

*muax*

and twist...




Catchy song. =P

Anyway, we spent the whole week learning about oral health, and a whole lot of other things I can't seem to recall. But the thing I remember second best (first would be.. before choosing a partner, we should look at their teeth) is: There are more bacteria in a guy's mouth as compared to a girl's.

Now I don't know what to make of this information. Kiss girls, not guys? o.O

Yea, that's probably not it. I'm a terrible student.

****

On another note, it's been a looong time since someone mentioned me in their blog. Which is why I'm flattered when I saw myself here. Okay, he didn't actually mention me, I just happened to be in the pictures. Haha.

But I don't care how silly this is, I'm still flattered. :P

Plus, it was a good reunion. :)

Never happened.

I was there,
Your sister was there,
Your cousins were there,
Your nieces and nephews were there,
A whole bunch of other people were there,
But where were you?


Dreams are weird. How does one dream of a house they know exists but never been to? Of people they know exist but never met? Of a party they don't... wait, it wasn't a party. I've no idea what it was. Lotsa people, lotsa noise, and then some prayers ( I know rite?), I was being interviewed and scrutinized for some reason.

It was oddly scary.

Dreams are weird. It's your subconscious messing with your conscious mind.

Hello.

Hello, blog. Can't believe it's been 4 months. No, I wasn't dead.



Here's what I've been up to: Avoiding my blog.

As weird as it sounds, it's true. This is a depressing blog. Haha. Yes, I'll admit.

I've always had a problem, bottling things up. And only a couple years ago I started writing, and that helps. A lot. Holding a pen and a diary, I could write over 5 pages a day, just thoughts and feelings. It kept me sane. (yea, diary, not blog)

I think I've had 3 'happy' diaries, and 1 depressing one, which I'm currently afraid to open.

So I stopped writing. See, writing out your thoughts and feelings means digging deep, and indulging in them. And sometimes, you don't want to indulge in those feelings. Like, you don't even want to know it's there.

Wait.

Am I making sense?

No?

I'm blabbering.

Okay, I'll stop. I was trying to avoid writing another depressing entry, but looks like I might be going there again. Haha.

I think KB kinda does that to you, mess with your head.

Okay, enough.

So anyways, I need to change this skin. And the description. And probably the title too. Everything spells depression, I'm tired of it.

I'll get to that soon.


Note to self: Stop procrastinating. Seriously. Stop.

Endings.

I used to believe that there are only one kind of ending: Happy Endings. And that if it's not happy, it's not the end.

But at times like this, the last thing you feel is optimistic, and the last thing you believe in are happy endings.

There are those kind of pain that you never want to experience in your life again, ever. The kind you bury in a place far far away, not wanting to ever remember what it felt like. But when you least expect it, they reappear, they resurface, they come back to kill you, maybe not literally, but still, kill you.

And sometimes it isn't the bad things that break your heart. Not at all. But the good things, the great things, that you know are gone. To watch something precious that you've built over time, crash and fall into pieces. To feel like someone stuck a dagger into all your hopes and dreams, to leave you with nothing.

I don't believe in holding grudges, I believe in forgiveness. I don't believe in regrets, I believe in making amends. I don't believe in abandoning ship, cause I believe in second chances.

But just because you believe in something, doesn't mean people do as well.

And I've learned that sometimes the hardest thing to do is getting someone to look at things the way you do.

When a hard disk stole 5 years of my life.

My hard disk crashed. So someone from Dell came over to replace it with a new one. Yea it's good that I have a functioning laptop now but what's horrible is that everything in the hard disk is now gone.

No I don't care so much about the movies, videos, songs, not even my lecture notes and assignments. I'm devastated because all my photos are gone. ALL of them. Pictures I've taken since I was 17. Yes ALL of them.

You'd probably call me stupid for not having a backup copy. But here's the thing, I don't actually store my pictures in my laptop. It's just there because I was doing some sorting and transferring, so it was suppose to be temporary.

And then it crashed.

Yes I shouldn't be whining so much about a bunch of lost data. But pictures are memories. Every picture has a story. Even the littlest things can be remembered because of pictures. Occasions, places, and most importantly, people. Every time you want to relive something you look at pictures.

I think you know what I mean. So yea, they're all gone. I've got nothing to look back upon.

I know it sounds silly but it really feels as though I did not exist for the past 5 years. That's right, I feel like I've lost 5 years of my life.

You know you're crazy when...

> You feel restless, you can't sit still.

> You put on your headphones and blast the same song over and over again even when your ears start to hurt.

> You feel like you need a shower, 2 seconds after you've had a shower.

> You keep staring at the same page on your computer, and once in a while you hit the refresh button.



A friend once said to me, "It's never easy knowing you've been replaced".
He's absolutely right.
I guess we're all the same. We all want to be special, we all want to matter, we all want to be needed. Nobody likes to feel unimportant and replaceable, just like an old toothbrush you can throw out anytime to get a shiny new one.

Get to the back of the line!

"tonight I'm not afraid to tell you what I feel about you..."

Unfortunately, there's nobody here tonight. Haha.








Anyways, remember how they used to teach us to queue up in pre-school? Before we got in class, when we're getting lunch, before we got on the bus, basically all the time. And even in primary school, and secondary school. Everywhere we go, we're all taught to queue up.

For me, this has become a habit. I naturally queue up, and wait for my turn to get to the cashier/ counter/ ATM/ whatever. Sadly (and not to mention, annoyingly), many Malaysians seem to have forgotten how to do this simple thing they taught us in school.

And let me add, these are full-grown, supposedly-wiser adults.

Don't people know how to queue up anymore? Yes, we're all rushing to do something/ to get somewhere, but I don't see why people enjoy pushing/ squeezing/ elbowing in order to get there.

Why can't you be more civilised, and WAIT FOR YOUR BLOODY TURN?

There've been so many occassions where I feel like slapping these ADULTS and simply telling them
"EXCUSE ME, YOU MORON. IN CASE YOU FAILED TO NOTICE, I GOT HERE FIRST! NOW GET TO THE BACK OF THE LINE!"

Which?

Which would you rather have...


One reason to smile, and a hundred reasons to cry?

or

No reason to cry, and no reason to smile either?