Neglect is just another form of saying "I have no Internet!"

I hate dial-up Internet. It's like trying to ride down the Autobahn with a car with square wheels. Hence my profound, prolonged silence.

There are other reasons, naturally. Like the fact that school has finally picked up and gone to to more practical things, which is great mental relief. No more fluffy garbage where I study the evolution of fish, the different sorts of algae and the philosophy behind theatre. (Right, like my future patients will ever feel the need to deeply explore the transition between coelocanths and the dolphin while method acting to kelp.) Instead, we are buried neck-deep in the intricacies of how to induce anaesthesia without, hopefully killing our patient, and in two weeks time, I get to perform an ex lap surgery, which, after three agonizing years of theory, is for me the surgical equivalent of shagging George Clooney. It's much more intellectually satisfying and I don't feel so much like I'm sitting around twiddling my thumbs any more, but it does mean that I'm out of the house by 8 am and I crawl abck around 5 and hit the sack for an hour before cooking dinner and then trying (and often failing) to hit the books. (I succumb to the seductive lure of Gazillionaire III and Popular.)

That being said, I suspect that I'm sliding gradually towards depression. I've been happier alone than in the company of others, I've been at the cancer sticks like a fat kid after candy and really, all I want to do is mooch around the house in The Boy's oversized Hard Rock tee that I sleep in until I get to do a surgery. I'm sick of the stupid freezing mornings and the scorching afternoons and the cytotoxic levels of chlorine in the public pools and the fact that my landlord wears his shoes in the house and the cockroaches that invade my private sanctum and the wearying drudgery of being surrounded by people much younger than me and whose idea of a great time out is to stand around the bar getting plastered and getting wildly and inappropriately excited when the DJ plays Lady Gaga and me feeling so fucking Asian all the fucking time and being certain that despite the sunscreen that I slather faithfully on myself everyday, the stupid UV rays are turning me slowly but certainly into a craisin way before my time. Maybe I'm just grumpy and cynical and tired. Or maybe I just want to go home.

India at the end of the year. And two more years to go.