Bare

I'm hiding in my car taking deep breaths, completely overwhelmed by the wave of new information and confusing logistics. An unfamiliar playing field with too much oestrogen. 

It was a good idea to skip lunch - the anxiety is making me nauseous. The fact that I am without a manicure makes it worse. I'm at a state of utmost vulnerability, where the lightest snowflake could send me tumbling. 

And so I find comfort in old spaces and old faces. This is when bad judgement and lax morals come out to play. 

Everything tastes of salt.  

Never too chocolate

I'm in bed willing myself not to finish the last of the German peach Bellini gummies too quickly but, as I had with the rest of the sweets V sent me, I practically inhale them anyway and am already browsing the store's website and contemplating my next order.

Just a few summers ago, I was sipping the most delicious apple martini in Huangpu district, watching a logo-laden group of middle-aged men pay for enough bottles to have the privacy of a partition because they were too embarrassed to dance on the main floor. I would never spend my hard-earned money on such ridiculous things, I had mused.

It just goes to show that even the best of us sometimes eat our own words, amongst other things, like the gold-dipped marshmallows and candied black cherries that will arrive at my door within the next few days via expedited shipping.

I've become quite the frivolous spender since starting becoming a doctor, and money is not the only aspect of life I have completely given up control of. Work has become the perfect justification for evading self-discipline: being too busy to exercise yet always making time for retail therapy, adopting reckless eating habits as reward for trivial accomplishments, and forever giving myself one more day off from studying.

Perhaps it is post-call mania, but after an afternoon of reflection, I don't see why I can't have it all. I'll have my red velvet and eat it too. 

The Perfect Egg

I am absolutely eggstatic to share with you my foolproof recipe for soft-boiled eggs, aka the first result on google search.

You're welcome.

Perfect for a breakfast, lunch, or a rainy night in. 
Instant curry and leftover rice not included.

Way To His Heart Series: The Perfect Soft-Boiled Egg
1. Take a little pot and heat more than enough water to cover your eggs on their side. 

2. Wash your eggs while that's boiling (newbies: maximum heat, lid on). 

3. When your water is at a full boil (newbies: spilling over the sides) lower your eggs in with a strainer. Or with as much gentle loving care as possible without steaming yourself. 

Goodbye, my children!

4. Your eggs may crack up a little if you told them a joke If they came fresh out of the fridge due to the temperature difference (hello heated soda can experiment in year 7). This makes them easier to peel later on, but by all means leave them out at room temperature for longer if you prefer intact shells (you don't).

5. Lower the heat so that your water is making the tiniest bubbles (I turned my setting to 7/12 on my electric stove). Replace the lid and let your eggs cook for five and a half minutes. 

6. Fish them out with a strainer. Run cold water over your eggs until they're cool to touch. 

7. Peel off the shell. Realise how right I was about #4. 

8. Sprinkle on salt. Savour this glorious eggsperience. 

And there you have it, directions to heaven, all in an eggshell.