(no subject)
just phoned my dad. he kept on asking about dreadicine, so I confessed that the likelihood of me sticking around longer than FY2 was fucking low, seeing as I don't know what I want from a career and I don't know whether I'd enjoy medicine (scratch that. I'm pretty certain I'd hate it, at least being a hospital doctor, that is). What I'd actually love to do is turn the clock back and not start this stupid degree at all, but I know if I told pater I want to drop out he'd disown the crap out of me.
Anyway. So. Explained I don't know what to do, etc etc.
Daddy, in response to this disturbing and rare honest confession from me, responds with:
"Well, you know what you want to do. You want to be a doctor, so you'll do it."
Right. Good listener, my father.
I want to be financially independent, STAT! I know I'm probaby not being fair, but he's an honest to god amoral fucker who enjoys controlling people with money, so there you go.
Am consoling myself with sticky toffee pudding (LOVE) and summer heights high.
Anyway. So. Explained I don't know what to do, etc etc.
Daddy, in response to this disturbing and rare honest confession from me, responds with:
"Well, you know what you want to do. You want to be a doctor, so you'll do it."
Right. Good listener, my father.
I want to be financially independent, STAT! I know I'm probaby not being fair, but he's an honest to god amoral fucker who enjoys controlling people with money, so there you go.
Am consoling myself with sticky toffee pudding (LOVE) and summer heights high.
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