Muse

My muse seems to be on vacation and has forgotten to send me a postcard. And my fingers have been too lazy resting on the mouse instead of typing on the keyboard. It's been an eventful 7 weeks with nothing in particular to say. A month and a half of busyness severely lacking in 'fun', 'excitement', entertainment and photos.

I didn't get myself sloshed at parties. I didn't even go to parties. I didn't jeopardise any one's furniture when pillow fighting with my friends - I didn't go to sleepovers. I never complained of sunburn - I hardly touched the sea. I didn't visit Dr. Joelle in casualty with a sprained ankle or dislocated shoulders - I didn't get a chance to play football (or netball, or water polo, or diving, or rugby). I forgot how it feels like to live like the Teletubbies over the hills and far away - I didn't go to Gozo (you know...Gozo...the island of the three hills). Instead I took the pleasure of reading other people's blogs to relive that kind of summer, with short postings coloured with loads of photos and double the spelling mistakes.

In the meantime, I took the liberty of tempting my driving instructor to swear at me when I drive too much like James Bond 007 around roundabouts. He says I should use the breaks when I turn corners. Well, maybe it's "a sign" that I was born to work in the A&E and drive ambulances ;).

Yet, it seems that it's going to take me a while before I get my licence, and will power without the money doesn't really get you far (excuse the pun). Hence, I used to spend 40 hours a week fighting against obesity "the Atkins's way". I sold McDonald's burgers with large fries and large Diet Cokes, watch people eat them, wipe the tables and trays and, sometimes, even clean behind customers when all would have been digested and excreted. You see, with some people, stools had a habit of ending up on the floor 10cm away from the toilet. Being quite acquainted with all sorts of biological hazards (blood, stools, urine, sputum etc...), I'd volunteer to take others out of deep shit (literary), whilst letting my other colleague (usually Lucienne) wash and disinfect the toilet. It became routine eventually...Lucienne and I checking out the toilets for any similar surprises, sometimes hidden under a mountain of blue toilet paper. However, despite working a real lot together, there were occasions of communication breakdowns along the way. This once lead to my apprentice, mop in hand and bucket in the other, unlock a previously locked toilet door ("Marquita must have locked it by mistake"), only to find an urgent case of micturition happily emptying his bladder, whilst totally ignoring the very dirty floor just 10cm away from where he's standing.

Well, I had my last shift at McDonald's last week as I started my third year at Medical School three weeks ago, only to end up going to the wards in the morning smelling pretty much like a McDonald's toilet in need of cleaning after a UFO (Unidentified Foul Object) would have landed 10cm away from the toilet seat.