8 hours in the lab.

15 June 2006

I went to my mother’s clinic today. Well, strayed more likely and had a valuable conversation with the receptionist.

Receptionist: Do you have an appointment?
Me: Oh you mean I need one?
Receptionist: Well, if not you have to kind of wait for all the patients to finish first
Me: Wait? What if something happens while I am waiting?
Receptionist: No, no delivery
Me: Are you kidding? My water bag might burst.
Receptionist: What? No, I don’t think you are in the delivery stage yet, um take a seat?
Me: But my textbook said I give birth in 9 weeks and I used the pregnancy kit like two months ago
Receptionist: There’s still a long way ….
Me: What if I deliver prematurely? You mean this is patie....

Oh well somewhere in the middle of my diatribe someone must have informed my mother about the half-sensed teenage mishap with a self proclaimed gestation period of nine weeks, who is succumbing to hysterics about her unborn baby. She spoilt my fun by sending her nurse to tell everyone that I was her daughter, and yes I am a little out of sorts. Thanks mum for acknowledging our association.

She did give me money to get dinner so I would haul myself away. Now we all know, all extortions and bribery are never voluntary, but had once been encouraged. In the future, if I turn out to be a conniving sneak who has disposed of honesty and integrity in my wastebin, you know who to unceremoniously heap the blame on.

18 June 2007

I spent 11 hours at the lab today. Then, I sat outside the hospital bench like a homeless vagrant and drank Starbucks Mocha from 7-11 and ate gummy bears; and people stared. They must have tsked under the breath on the blasphemy of runaway, binge eating disorder teenagers who busk outside hospitals and nurture their stomach into potential cesspits for gelatine and caffeine. Or maybe, they have an imagination less hyperactive then mine and perhaps those stares were a fragment of my demented illusion which hikes itself up to ‘Overprotective’ mode whenever I sit outside inappropriate public spots. I waited for my mother for 10 minutes and deliberated whether my body might collapse from diabetes considering how gummy bears have been included in my daily meal consumption for the past week. Five minutes later, I bought myself another bag. Because…heck.

Gee. Maybe I should consolidate these and aspire to mature into the Second Anne Frank. We seem to have endured similar states of ineavasible haplessness under absolute tyranny.- Anne in the Second World War and Nazi Invasion, and myself in NUS's Invasion (of my school holidays).

I can foresee my death from excessive inhalation of Hydrochloride.