Disclaimer
The reader accepts, on reading of this disclaimer, that the Internet is a vast wasteland of crap that spews out of human minds. This blog is no different. Any assumptions or conclusions that the reader draws from this blog are not the responsibility of the author, along with any physical or psychological harm that might result from the reading of this blog.

Author
The author is a paranoid, deranged and cynical misanthrope who records snippets of her life so that she will remember them when she grows old and withered. The identities of any names or initials on this blog are based on the assumptions of the reader unless otherwise specified, and the author claims no responsibility for them.

Reality
The author somehow got into medical school. Yes, you of the general public, shudder and fear the wrath of an inept doctor.

Loves
Reading, Maisy (my dog), tea, writing (albeit badly), piano, music, junk food.

Hates
Almost everything else besides the things mentioned above.

Friends

 Bao Cheng' Bernice' Chien Young' Chun Hing' Claire' Faustina' Felicia' Ferly' Gloria' Irene' Irene & Jiaying' Jac' Jiamin' Jiasin' Jiaying' Lutheng' Karene' Marissa' Melesa' Mingyi' My fictionpress' Pamelia' Pei Rong' Qiu Ting' Rachel' Satires Site' Stasia' Sylvia' The Clique' Vinette' Wenjia' Xin Rong' Xue Ying' Yanne & I' Yanne & Jamie' Zeena' 203'

Archives

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Chat area


 Saturday, February 25, 2006

I hate being at home. Hold it, allow me to elaborate before you get your rotten eggs out.

Firstly, being around them increases my chances of dying of a cardiac arrest/high blood pressure. For some reason, there is no way I can sit down and do something for 5 minutes before someone shouts 'Do this now' like that something would suddenly sprout legs and run out of the door and get abducted by spaceships outside. For goodness sake, teapots aren't like those in 'Beauty and the Beast', with legs and hands and witty remarks. They actually stay there, if you haven't realised.

Secondly, I already have dark eyebags (pigmentation or some bullsh*t). There's no need to attempt to make me insomniac by placing calls at ungodly hours of the morning (what more, on a weekend) and shouting at the top of your voice where to get fresh fruit and vegetables, what you had for dinner, what an idiot your daughter is for getting 2nd in class, that the flower pots in the garden smell of cat dung and so on, for I doubt the people on the other side of the line are deaf. Even if they are, I am not. I know you want me to lead a healthy lifestyle and have strictly 8 hours of sleep a day, become vegetarian, run around doing your errands aka exercise to you, shave my head and become a monk, but I need SLEEP. Thinking about it, maybe not, since I sleep in school all the time.

Also, the television already gives live commentaries (more specifically, winter olympics figure skating), thus there is no need for you to attempt to drown out the accompanying music with your words. If I were to choose between the music and your voice, it's rather obvious which I would choose, don't you think so?

Lastly, I hate to come home to your nagging. Every time I go cycling, before I can even lock my bike to the pillar, I can hear your melodious voices floating out of the door. As afore mentioned, you may think I'm deaf, so just to clarify things up, I am NOT deaf. And I don't fly out to supermarkets and return like I had just apparated there, grabbed something off the shelf, and apparated back with the snap of my fingers. I am also no olympian cyclist for your information, so I need TIME to buy stuff.

Long enough rant.

12:42 PM