"You Drive Me Craaay-zeeee..."

Ladies and gentlemen, I am going crazy. No, not the crazy that we all know I already am, which is just...mildly eccentric, with quirks (I hear those sniggers!) but OUT OF MY BLEEDING MIND. This university is full of crazy people. Unfortunately for me, most of them are the kind of 25-hour-studiers-in-a-24-hour-day crazy. The kind who show up for EVERY FRIGGIN LECTURE on time, despite the fact that the last lecture ended 5 minutes ago on the other side of town. The kind who march into a supervision knowing EVERY FRIGGIN DETAIL of EVERY FRIGGIN METABOLIC PATHWAY, and take delight in spouting said friggin details at such a rate that the supervisor himself eventually gives up and offers them his job. (I kid you not. Word on the street has it that the guy who topped the faculty last year was HIS OWN SUPERVISOR. Maniac.)

I feel like starting a bonfire in the middle of Jesus Green, ripping all my clothes off, and dancing around the fire singing insanely whilst chucking my medical textbooks (and a few of my more irritating classmates) into the fire. The last time someone did something this crazy they got a national festival named after them. So hey, at least I become famous, even if I'm rotting in an asylum at the time.

Then again, my mode of stress release may not be all that far-fetched. I was walking back from lectures through Christ's Pieces when I saw this dude doing what appeared to be a Scottish jig with a funny-coloured stick. I walked closer and saw that he was actually juggling fire. In the middle of a public park on a beautiful sunny day. As if he didn't have a care in the world. Or as if he was completely bonkers, of course.


Note how, in this second pic, the fire-throwing dude starts to fumble, and the nice lady sitting on the bench behind him starts to get off the bench, possibly to run for her life. I, however, was feeling the direct opposite way. I wanted to walk up to him and offer to hold his fire-stick thingy while he took a break. I honestly believed getting burnt alive would have been more pleasant than going to another Pharmacology supervision and getting my behind handed to me on a platter by some supermedic who knows the aetiology of the word 'aetiology'.


To top it all off, this has to come right after I played the brilliant all-knowing exemplary student in the previous post. I find that whenever I try and play that role things usually blow up in my face. Now to go play some Britney Spears and slam my head repeatedly on my table till I black out (cos us Cambridge students aren't allowed to sleep til we've exhausted ourselves, see. They didn't say HOW we needed to exhaust ourselves however. Ha! Haha! In your face, Establishment!)

And if that doesn't work out, there's always that gun in the top right corner of my site background. Yep. That's what it's there for, folks. For killing supernerdy medics, then for shooting myself in frustration when they diagnose themselves just before they die.