Thirty three point three percent

There's Meredith Grey and her friends, then there's J.D. for Scrubs and of course Doogie Howser. All with the same format - that of a doctor telling her/his story... I wonder whether they really have a doctor writing the script for those shows. If i wrote one, it would be similar to Scrubs as that it is how my mind works too. Grey has too much drama in it, and frankly, i don't believe surgery runs the whole hospital without any input from other departments (especially from the internal medicine people, where Dr Gregory House belongs to and uhmmm where I will belong to by july this year). It's the old Internal Medicine versus Surgery war.

I'll start work on july but orientation will be on the second week of june, and it will start with a series of exams, written and practical and also a series of vaccine shots... I wonder if they'll poke us in the middle of the test? Most likely just to wake us up.

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Here's how it goes - the psyche is made up of three different things - the libido, the ego and the superego.

The libido - is what you want regardless of the consequences
The superego - is the one that tells you to follow the rules
And the ego - is the one that strikes the balance between the two

That's a rough rule. Medical intellectuals, don't judge me for the oversimplification. I know it's much more complicated than that.

Thirty three point three percent of me wants the cherry cola. And if i were to be completely honest, I may have crossed the line and gone beyond wanting to some familiar territory where diet pepsis do not exist. I'm not making any sense.

You've been acting weird lately... Keen eye. No need for denial. Yes well what if I am?

Why?

It's just that maybe i've been trying hard to keep my eyes shut. I do peek sometimes, i like what i see but I also know if i drink that cola, i would complicate matters. And who needs complications? Not me for sure.

I just need to make it through the next six weeks.
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It's such a hot summer. Man to think that it was just 34 C. Nothing beats being in the beach. Next to that, the only thing i could think of would be lounging inside starbucks and drinking iced caramel macchiato.

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Pacquiao won again. Getting to be too tiring for him? I mean all that winning? No excitement. HE should do a stint in Wrestling. The Trump did one.
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My love for virgin beaches is proving to be detrimental to my skin. Already two and a half weeks since my last mountain/ beach adventure and the scars /bites I got are still with me. Grrrr. Fair trade off though. But still irritating. I wonder what poison those insects have?
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My sister asked me this question - whose life would you want to wake up to if given a chance? I think my sister answered Paris Hilton or Lindsay Lohan.... Hmmm... I thought about it, yeah it would be cool to see how the other side lives but I settled for Steve Irwin (uhmmm minus the stingray) because he was living la vida loca.
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I was going through old letters written to me by different friends. Some were like 12 years ago. I'm packing them with me when I leave to remind me to smell Christmas. I was suprised to see what some of them wrote. I'm not trying to build my own statue here, but they thanked me for being a blessing to them, for being there at their time of need. Which got me thinking - am I still that person? After twelve years, do i still have that heart?

I'm thinking too much, but i always believe that we should always make an effort to remember who we were and think whether the you now would be someone the you in the past would be proud of.
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I'm off my soap box.