S4intJimmy

Nobody likes you when you're 23. You don't even like yourself when you're bloody knackered after an eleven-hour overdose of medicine. Every single atom of information is being bombarded at you until you give in with a cowardly cry of 'I yield, I yield!' and throw in your towel. There are limitations we need to accept and embrace. The only limitless thing might be stress levels, which are getting astronomical. Oh dear. With 2 months until exams start, this is not the best of signs. Anyway, April happened. It was oddly calm, featuring some pretty damn good RockSoc nights, live gigs, Kasteel, Game of Thrones, brownies in lieu of a cake for my b

Foolish enough to post this on Aprils' Fools. But all of the stuff written here genuinely happened. Well, there is a shard of truth behind everything, at least :p And it's really awkward to update starting off mid-month. Or should I take it back to the start? I will. It's easier. My memory has massive gaps already. But I do vaguely remember that March kicked off with a 1920s-themed ball, opened by a champagne reception. There was gambling. There was ice-cream. There was ceilidhing (not as viciously, didn't have many bruises in the aftermath). There was loads of good cheese on St Paddy's because of the gambling (as my boyfriend bet his last

Urgh. Just urgh. Have been meaning to update this for quite a while, but life provided me with no respite. Whatsoever. Just escaped the hell of infectious diseases (after a minor whooping cough scare, a course of antibiotics and a vaccine), and now I'm doing oncology. Which is far less doomy and gloomy than it's portrayed. But about that, some other time, some other place. Not now. Am flicking through the Photo a day album to see what February meant, and yet I find few things of consistence. Probably including the drunkest I've gotten in quite a while (followed by a painful hangover due to Czech pear-flavoured paint-stripper, NEVER AGAIN) an