Dang I’m getting good at these weekly posts. Don’t get too comfortable though — the school administration will find me soon enough and force me to start paying attention to those lovely clicker questions. But until then, here is the sixth edition of Front Row Views! Did I call you out this week? Let me know!
For those of you wondering how Term 4 is going right now:
Our pathology professor decided that walking around the lecture hall with a microphone in people’s faces would be a good idea. Never have I seen grown men more scared in my life.
One guys got so scared he forgot what his named was. I’m looking at you back there, Paramesonephric!
Can we just go back to the regular “read the slides word for word” business? It’s too early for me to be an active participant in society.
I feel like Queen B’s cackles during lecture is her way of calling her subjects to order. Either that or she really likes to draw attention to herself. Yes queen, I still hear you.
All of the Term 2 kids are rejoicing about leaving in less than a month and yet Term 4 still has two months to go. Can you not?
If another Term 2 whines about how difficult their life is right now, I might just throw my hot coffee at them. It is a sacrifice I am willing to make.
Homeboy is walking around the classroom with the microphone again. No no no no no.
Today in our CPD (AKA how to be a doctor 101) lab, the standardized patient said I don’t have empathy. I agree with this evaluation.
Today I decided to dress even more like a potato and came to class in really comfy sweat pants that happened to have a funky design on them. Edinder then proceeded, for the next hour, to ask me the cultural relevance of the pants. The Amazon, bro. As in Amazon.com. LET ME BE!
I now have CPD lab at the end of the day, meaning that the standardized patients are extra salty. Do they realize that if they just cooperated and answered my questions, they would get out of here faster?
Queen B asked our pathology tutor a question, something she normally does. Little did I know she was actually getting free medical advice. GIRLLLLL.
Our pathology professor started making dirty jokes in lecture. This would be more enjoyable if he didn’t sound like, and was the same age, as my dad. Please uncle-ji, don’t do it.
Somehow in pathology lab we got onto the topic of black market organ selling. Did you know you could sell your kidney for around $200,000? Good deal, I think.
I’ve come to the point where I’m so exhausted that I can’t think clearly anymore. It’s like a say half of a sentence and then I.
One of our lab members said he was going to miss a lab next week. The first response from the entire group was to warn him that I would shank him in the kidney. My reputation precedes me.
Somehow we got back onto selling our organs. One member was ready to sell his testicle. BOI YOU NEED TO CHILL.
I decided to be productive and work on my lab slide during an awfully boring lecture. It ended with me and another lab member battling in a full on meme war. There were many casualties.
Neuro bully boy figured out he was neuro bully boy. Congratulations. I’m still going to pick on you.
We have a new pathology professor this week. While the microphone is now stuck on the stage, I now have to deal with this bubbly, super happy, and cheerful lady. I rather take on microphone man.
Everyone loves this new pathology professor. My reason for not liking her? She’s too nice. I’m not joking. TOO. NICE.
We found out that if it is after 9 p.m. and on a Wednesday, our friend goes from an innocent, perfect brown girl (that every auntie wishes their daughters would be) to a savage, ruthless, no-filtered sass-queen. I like this new version of her.