“You kinda need to have someone, you know. Not necessarily be in a relationship, but yeah.. We’ll soon be in final year.. You need to have someone.”
That was said to me by a classmate/friend the other day in class. The topic of marriage/relationships had come up somehow (I forget how), and I had commented of my lack of a significant other and the fact I was in no hurry to get said person.
He seems to disbelieve me…. Aren’t you in your 20’s alreadyand with medicine, you know how it is….
As stated in my previous post, I approached the idea of summer practise in Nigeria with quite a bit of anxiety (one morning I actually hid in my sister’s bathroom… the entire why of that deserves its own post).. So, I was actually surprised I ended up enjoying it.
And this is all because of the doctors I met/was assigned to while there :
“He’s thinner than she remembers. His shirt hanging awkwardly on his shoulders, his gait sluggish. She waits for him to look up and see her, waits for the way his face would light up, waits for way he’ll draw her into his arms. He doesn’t.
I have dry skin. Very dry skin. Which I inherited in combination, with my nose and D-cup, from my lovely parents, whom in retrospect where probably not considering the resulting mixture of their genes when they did that which shall not be named. Read More »
I started the day : A strong, independent, Nigerian woman —– having cake for breakfast. And I didn’t even bake it myself. My friend was baking a cake for someone’s birthday, and it’s a silent unspoken rule between us, that when she’d “level” the cake, I would have some of that.
As you well know, it’s not even close to healthy for breakfast, or any meal, but I was too lazy to make anything else. However, after a few mouthfuls of cake, I got introspective. Like, soul-out-of-body-look-at-your-life kinda introspective. And I’m thinking,
what am I doing? I’m totally going to feel awful after eating this. Bloated too.