Friday, February 10, 2006

My Anatomy

I didn't go to Cross Country today. Shit. My flu's the same as the day before. I keep on sneezing and snot just oozes out of my nostrils like a tap on full blast.

So, what did I do? I went to the polyclinic! Alone. My mother reminded me to bring my appointment card. Phew! Lucky I never forget. Anyway, went there. Took a queue number. Went to the registration counter. And this is what the registration lady (Bitch Registration Lady) said:

BRL: Where's your IC?
Me: Ugghh... I never bring. Can I just show you my EZ Link?
BRL: Next time bring IC to poly. What your address?
Me: Block 248, Pasir Ris...
BRL: Ok.

And then the lady had the audacity to glare at me like as if I played truant, like a juvenile delinquent. Firstly, do I look like one?!

Anyway, went up and the whole clinic was full, as usual. The stupid queue number shower had those marquee messages at the bottom which said "Our clinic is crowded today. Sorry for making you wait." Or something like that. Sick people tend to forget what had happened. Wait? Hasn't it been crowded since the clinic officially opened? Anyway, waited for like, 90 minutes and there was like, this couple who seems like as if they were rehearsing Romeo and Juliet. Can they like, make out somewhere other than the polyclinic? Where there's so much germs! And why do I keep seeing people making out? The clinic isn't a place where you have sex!

Then, there were people who cut queue! Yes! Just like the British Welfare State! I overheard them claim that their case was urgent and blah blah blah. I hope all of them get cancer. Prostate hopefully. So that they won't be able to produce any more jerks that will cut queues when they become adults.

Anyway, after near death, my number flashed on the screen! Wah, so essay-y. Went inside and saw this malay woman in a tudung sitting on the doctor's chair. Anyway, I wanted to ask her to knock on my knee to see if my nervous system was working, but then I was scared she might be an imposter like the Catch Me If You Can guy. Then, she might knock on my kneecap and dislocate it.

Can't believe that I wrote crap for my English descriptive essay. This is a short paragraph which I wrote:

My brother tucked his calves under his thighs, like what Japanese women do during their tea ceremonies, while he nibbled on dolphin-safe tuna sandwich. He sat on the checkered auburn picnic mat as he gaped at the sea wondering what might pop out of the aquamarine ocean - a fish, a dolphin, or pherhaps a mermaid!

See? This is what I call bullshit!