Takes my pain away
18.05.06, 2:41 pm

Does that look like revision to you? You know, I had high hopes that finals would motivate me to do more work than ten minutes every three hours, but no. I thought the fact that I have four exams in the space of ten days would motivate me to file my stupid notes away properly but no. I thought the fact that I am no way near on a safe 2:1 would motivate me to OWN MORE THAN ONE WORKING PEN BUT NO. Clearly my one biro is going to run out at some point during the 8 hours of writing that I�ve got planned for it, and then where I end up? Stupid shit no-pen creek, that�s where.

So yeah, no work is still getting done, and not just because of The Apprentice. The other night I rang Lise and ended up on the phone for an hour and ten minutes, twenty of which were just spent singing Disney songs to each other along to the CD that Lise had playing in the background, going as far as doing the speaking bits in the middle too - I always wound up with the most flattering roles, i.e. bookshop man in Beauty and the Beast and Ursula from The Little Mermaid. We both got to sing along to Kiss The Girl though, which I�d forgotten rocks so very much (�Der you see her, sitting der across de way -� Come on, Lise, do your best Jamaican accent! �- she don�t got a lot to say, but der�s someting about her�� God, I�m such a geek loser child). And then Lise�s mum, Jackie, came stomping down:

Jackie: Lisa, where�s the phone?
Lise: It�s here.
Jackie: I�ve been beeping you. I need it.
Lise: Yeah, well I�m on it to Hol.
Me (shouting down phone): HEY JACKIE!
Lise: Hol�s telling me about her mystery illness.
Jackie: I�ll give her a bloody mystery illness in a minute.

She loves me really � last time I rang she ordered Lise to give her the phone and then had a ten minute talk with me demanding that I tell Lise to stop meeting random blokes off the Internet and why can�t she just meet a nice boy at work and what if one turns out to be an axe murderer? Well, exactly. If one turns out to be an axe murderer I shall be more than a little pissed off.

And if I�m not on the phone then I�m galumphing into Becky�s room to discuss the weather or the latest topic up for debate on the �Mel Loves Mr King and She Can�t Deny It� messageboard on Facebook or whatever. Becky�s such a bad influence as well; she never tells me to piss off and go revise because she�s always just as bored writing her essay on The Global Compact.

Me: I�m gonna have to go have a lie-down in a bit, my legs pissing knack. God, I�m just turning into an old man.
Becky: Well, kind of.
Me: Maybe I�ve got that premature aging disease�
Becky: No, you haven�t got a big head so you haven�t got that.
Me: Oh good.
Becky: Why do they have big heads anyway?
Me: Well, I guess it�s because their genes are generally mashed and�are you sure they�ve got big heads? Really? Hang on, I�ve got a picture in one of my textbooks. We can examine this issue further.

We then spent about fifteen minutes looking at all the gross pictures in my Anatomy & Physiology textbook, including some horrific ones of childbirth that have put us off giving birth for at least three lifetimes (not that I was a big fan to start with), before finally deciding that I don�t have the premature aging disease, not least because I�d be dead by now if I did have it.

Summarising my health in the briefest of brief paragraphs, because I�m just as bored of writing about it as you�re sure to be of reading about it: it�s actually not been so great the last couple of days. My arms got better, so they�re less painful now, but my legs have decided that they�ve had enough, and are consequently reat tired and weak and stiff. I�ve also started to stumble a little when I walk, which I�m hoping is only temporary. Also, SEH is currently having a field day, which is always fun (and a little worrying). Doctor suggested to me last time I saw him that I start a record of when and where I get the SEH, which sounds like the biggest slide down to hypochondria and over-analysis EVER, but what do I know. Although apparently the cardiology clinic may ask me to do this before I go in for my 24-hour ECG thing (if I ever go in for it). If I do have to do this then I�ll feel like the biggest nob ever bringing in a wee notebook full of sentences such as, �Thursday, 18th May: experienced SEH whilst sitting talking to my housemate, Rebecca�.

Today�s so far been a mixture of I.T. Centre based-revision and fannying about, until Paddy came and met me up there and we went off to hand in the prostate cancer essay thing. He succeeded in sitting down at the computer next to me, texting me �Hello� to my phone that was right next to me and then sitting staring at me for five minutes before I finally noticed that he was there. Cancer Biology revision is just that fascinating. Spending time with him still rips me up inside. I shall be trying to work all this afternoon and tonight, and then tomorrow morning is blood-letting followed by two hours of presentations, mine included. 7 days until the first exam. Why do I not feel panicked at all?

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