My 2011 rommate is living in the dorm again. NO. Not really living. He arrives, takes off to study, then goes back at around 1 a.m. From study groups, I guess. And this is what our lives would be for the next forever.

He has this little hammer thing used to test your reflex. It's so cool! It really does exist and it's not only a thing for the movies! Duh, Patrick.

So after PE (we had a session in this sweltering hot dance studio and we were dancing to the tune of Iskolar ng bayan...), after arriving at our little room, I sat down on my roommate's chair, and I tested MY reflexes. During elemetary when we had this exercise, I usually voluntarily jerk my knee. I don't know. Maybe it was a psych thing. Whatever. But it actually works! It really does and the skeptical me is no longer existing! Yeah!

***

I can't pronounce my name right. That's why I hate it. IhateitIhateitIhateit. How do you pronounce it anyway? I have two ways:

1. PAT-trick. The problem with this is that it sounds so ugly. The way the r sound is so audible makes it horrible!

2. PATCH-wick. And you say this quickly. Hmmm. It sounds okay, but it feels so wrong! I swear, it's so werid!

How mundane. I wish I were called Chuckles the Silly Piggy! Hahahaha-haha.

***

I think my asthma is bothering me again. I'm actually wheezing! So my nebulizer is out of the box again. Yes. Hello, DeVilbiss.

After treating myself with unflavored/medicated mist, I usually get this shaky feeling. I "nebulized" (what is the verb for of this?) more than an hour ago, but I still feel shaky. Yes. Right now. It's irritating. I can't even write well. And how am I supposed to finish my lab report, hm? Goodbye, Thursday night sleep.

***

I love dancing. I never dance during elementary. I was lame. Patrick=Lame-o. I promise. So I just discovered the fun of dancing during highschool. In our school, everybody must dance. It's a PE requirement. And the year-ender/culminating acitvity that the whole school preapares for is one of the most highly anticipated event of each schoolyear. So dance, we must.

But now. I feel pressured. Pressured!

I wish things would go back to the way they were. Hmmm. About us dancing for the fun of it. FOR FUN.

***

Happy Feet? Please?

***

Our first NSTP hospital "duty" was a dud. It was kinda boring. My group was assigned to ward 3. The male ward. And we made cotton balls. We even made it a contest! But it was still cottonball-making. OR? Please?