Seven weeks until exams. Naturally it is time for me to bemoan my general lack of follow-through, effective note-taking, organisation skills, etc etc. Doesn’t matter. I have a plan. I just need to enact it.
I’ve just had a week of ‘break’, and I must have needed it, because aside from some minor reading, and some major planning, I haven’t actually done a whole heap of actual work work. I’ve just enjoyed going to bed early, getting up late, and not having to be in the hospital five days a week.
Sadly, the chunk missing from my finger prevented me from traveling anywhere interesting this week, which has had the unfortunate unintended consequence of me both missing a wedding reception and being forced to have my hair cut in Tinytown.
When I say ‘cut’, I guess what I really mean is ‘hacked at’.
Note to all aspiring Hair Artistes: Unless a person attends your Salon-Like Establishment for the sole express purpose of having their head shaved, the presence of a cowlick on their frontal hairline (ie fringe) does not in any way entitle you to use CLIPPERS to remove all evidence of said cowlick.
When I say ‘remove all evidence’, I guess what I really mean is ‘leave unsightly salt-and-pepper stubble’.
Thus blighted by a finger wrapped to resemble a Redhead matchstick and some kind of punk-meets-pumice-stone jailbird mop on my head, tomorrow I shall commence my last rotation of Phase Two: General Medicine.
I’m overcome by a deep desire to wear a beanie, long white gloves and dark glasses. And maybe a jumpsuit for good measure.