Bye Bye Birdie

Onam is over. It was like one of those "all you can eat" fests, only, all you can eat are vegetables. Bleh. But the payasam (a sweet dish made of milk, sugar and other traditional Indian savouries, says a reliable source) partly made up for the lack of animal protein, but it took a long evening session with the psychiatrist living in our fridge, Dr. Fried Chicken, before I got over my disappointment.

My Mom and I are starting on our "travelling around the world" thingy next week. We travel a whopping 950 kilometres (590 miles) from home. (If this does not, for some strange reason, seem that long a distance to you, you should remember that my Mom considers the trip to our local supermarket a journey around the country.) And we shall get back only after a very long time (two days). That means, I... Won't be missed here at the blog. *sigh*

You know what is the funnier than having no more exams? Thinking you have more exams. Five years of medical college (synonymous with "exams") does that to you. During those rare moments when reality sinks in, I start grinning like the loon that my college bears full responsibility for creating.

It didn't spare my brain.

Because of the frequency with which my professors threw around the E-word, all of my previous trips in the last few years involved my lugging around twice my weight in textbooks. I don't have to this time. Yay! *more grinning*

See?

Can you tell that I'm super excited? Because I am. I can't wait until next week, but, SURPRISE! I have to. Because that is how time works, apparently. Join me, people, in booing and throwing rotten eggs at Entropy's smug face.

arewethereyetarewethereyetarewethereyetarewethereyetarewethereyetarewethereyet

I promise to write about my trip, but you are not allowed to hold me to it. Because I am lazy. And will not start packing until an hour before we leave. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out where this is going, does it? But as any rocket scientists (hello there!) reading this will know, I will by now have acquired 'quick packing skillz' and I will merely spend all my shopping money on toothbrushes and bath towels. I am guessing that only Douglas Adams will want to know about my towels, and he is, well, dead.


Adieu, my friends. And no, I won't panic.