i stare at my gigantic surgery textbook and somehow it just doesn't do it for me. no come-hither beckoning, no crazy urge to pore thru the words, no nothing.

surgery's no fun for me. don't like it much, and it's hella boring standing in the OT for 3 hours without knowing what's going on! and not much of a view anyway. a glimpse of the liver, if i'm lucky. mostly it's just the smell of burning flesh that's really nauseating, and chunks of excised bloody mesenteric fat being dumped into kidney dishes. the former is especially intolerable, worse than the nostril-eroding formaldehyde during cadaver exploring days back in year 1.

seems like i won't be a surgeon in training anytime soon. been having sweet dreams of opening my own clinic with the girlies, serving a tai tai clientele and working 4-hour shifts everyday.

yay. i'm an ambitionless airhead doctor-to-be. o the shame. such a disgrace is me.

but after 5 years of obligated duties in the hospital in the very near future, i believe any great ambition of serving the public in a major hospital would be tossed out of the window in no time. give me my sleep time, holiday time, family time. most importantly, my shopping time. i see how the resident MO in AH slogs day and night, not being able to go home even to have a change of clothes is enough to convince me that a highflying career is really not everything.

sad, i know. but leave the nation-defending tasks to the men, while we ladies cover the homeground. we're more popular as GPs anyway.

tomorrow's granny visiting day! can't wait to chow on her fried noodles, pan fried cod fish, and fried glutinous rice sausage thingies. all things fried are good for you.