Information overload.

One of my male friends once said that my porridge breakfasts
resemble rabbit food. That still hurts.

I haven't posted for a while. It's not because I haven't wanted to, but you know how it is - it seems that I've just been generally busy. I know that's not a good enough excuse. Amidst all of the things that I've been crossing out on my 'to-do list', one of them was to just breathe. You know the feeling, when you need to 'take time out', 'have a breather' or just stop whatever it is that seems to be making you feel like there aren't enough hours in the day. My favourite time of the day to stop - breakfast. Yum.

Moving on swiftly, do you remember who the Head Boy/Head Girl was at your school? You know that superhuman who managed to do absolutely everything whilst getting top marks and still managing to be a really really nice person? Yes, that person who you love to hate. Alright Chantal, don't mince your words - I wasn't Head Girl so I'm acting like I have some unchallenged right to say this. Then again, I should know better because one of my closest friends was and I love her no less. Anyway, there is a point to all of this. That likeable, over-achieving and, quite frankly, almost perfect individual appears to be the majority of medical students that I seem to come across. 

I say all of this having spent my Saturday afternoon at my university's medics careers fair. Yes, not only do we have our own sports teams, orchestra, ski trip and Domino's discount card (50% off, I kid you not) but we also have our own careers fair. The barrage of posters, leaflets and freebies promoting the specialities available to us once we graduate felt - at least initially - pretty overwhelming. I didn't even know that the term 'medico-politics' existed, until I approached the Doctor at the stall and walked away feeling like I could be the next Secretary of State for Health. Watch out Jeremy Hunt. I actually started to get excited about the various career opportunities available to me once I managed to 'man up' (why is it that we use that phrase, I mean what would it  mean to 'woman up'? Insert feminist rant here. No, I'll leave that to the likes of Caitlin Moran). 

This disjointed entry probably reflects the abundance of thoughts that I've been trying to suppress in a bid to focus on essay deadlines. On a brighter note, the sun has got his hat on in Bristol and so the to-do list has been abandoned for the day. I must remember, there's always tomorrow.