Escape to the Country

It’s (still!) the summer holidays and I am surrounded by – drowning in - daytime television. Has anyone watched this show before? I think it’s about a couple or a family that want to move from the city to the countryside so they go a look at properties (correct me if I’m wrong).  As a born and bred city girl, I have always thought that there’s just nothing to do there.

I will freely admit that I was wrong.

Fields. Trees. Greenery. Fresh air. It all suddenly hits me like a freight train when I leave the hustle and bustle of the city behind. The contrast is more dramatic on a train journey but I suppose on some level this is what the old motorway holidays were like. Exciting, romantic, and thrilling. *cough cough* My lungs aren’t used to this level of cleanliness. There are houses surrounded by empty space. Everything is just so spaced out. It’s amazing. The city is a bubble. Sometimes it’s hard to think there’s anything else outside of it. Sometimes it’s a bit claustrophobic. I can see why people escape. I might try it sometime.

Reunions

Reunions are great. Last week I met up with my friends from my sixth form. It’s fun to catch up with them and find out what’s going on in everyone’s lives. We get to celebrate each other’s achievements and rejoice in their successes. Since leaving school in 2006 most of them have been to university and graduated. It’s just me and the rest of the medics left now (and of course those who didn’t go to university).

There’s one caveat to the trip on the memory train. If you’re anything like me while everyone is talking and laughing (and spilling their Starbucks coffee) a part of your mind will wonder ‘what have you managed to do with the last four years?’ or more specifically ‘X has done something amazing! You have done nothing. You suck.’ I should really use those moments to spur me to do something that can at least become future anecdote in conversation. But I don’t.  Well sometimes I do, but mostly I don’t.

And then my mind snaps back – where was I, oh yes. Celebrating achievements, rejoicing success…lamenting my own seemingly miserable life.

And yes I know I know, a lot of people in the world have it much worse than I do. I know I know, I shouldn’t compare myself to other people. But come on everyone does it. I’m just being honest here.

I’m a medic, get me out of here!

Why does your job take over your life? I recently went to an event where most of the people there were doctors. (I’m not quite there yet). To be honest I think we medics are the worst. When in the company of other doctors we can’t seem to talk about anything other than medicine. I felt for the poor non-medics dotted around the room. (There weren’t many of them I don’t think). I can imagine if I were in their situation I would feel rather left out. We as a group must seem very dull. We seem to have no other interests than our job. Indeed our jobs are our lives. Of course, being interested in your job is a great thing however; having nothing else in your life I think, is a great shame.

Ok, I suppose I exaggerate. I’m sure all of these people have other interests, hobbies and past times but I really do think that the world of medicine is a bit of a bubble. It’s isolated from the rest of the universe with their acronyms and abbreviations and jargon. It really does seem that way. And I’m on the inside.

My mother's Tongue

I recently came back from a trip to Ghana. Whenever I go there I’m always a bit worried as to how I’m going to communicate with people. Although my family are originally from Ghana I was born and raised in England. My parents didn’t speak much Twi with me as I was growing up so I never learned it. When I go to there my ‘foreignness’ shows. Big Time.

I hate it. Every time I go I tell myself I must learn the language. It’s My language I tell myself. Or is it? When I speak the words sound alien on my tongue. I never know if I’m saying the right words, and/or saying them in the right order etc. People furrow their eyebrows, squint their eyes and try to decipher what I’ve said. Or they just look at me like I’m stupid. My family encourage me to try.

Excuses Excuses

Procrastination is the thief of time.

There's no doubt about that. 

I procrastinate all the time. My life is one long procrastination. When I was young I wanted to be an author. My biggest idea for a story has been brewing in my head for the last 10 years. I haven't written down a word. I've always been waiting for the time when my writing would be 'good enough'. The problem is I never bothered to practise.

I like to get things right first time. I'm one of those perfectionist-type people. I need to have a well ordered plan. I need to be in control. But I'm lazy. Instead of doing the work I postpone things. It's easier that way. I tell myself it'll be better later if I do it later. I make excuses.

So my dreams fall by the wayside. My resolutions never turn into realities. I don't want this to sound like I'm being self-depreciating. I'm being honest (even if it does sound self-depreciating). Neither do I want this to sound like those stories where the underdog claws their way to success. You know the ones. They make you feel like you too could soar through the air like the high-flyers they are. But then you realise that they have the wings of eagles while yours are more like a housefly's. So you make an excuse. Or that's your excuse. You go back to work, or to school, or wherever. You do everything the same. In my case you go back to sleeping through your lectures.