Don’t volunteer, kids. (Also don’t grow up)

So, I’ve been on placement for half a year now and recently it’s hit me that working life can really suck sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t had those horrible looming what-is-the-point-of-anything-why-am-I-here thoughts as much but I believe that’s simply because I don’t have the time. I get up, leave the house for work, walk for 40 minutes, work an 8 1/2 hour shift in a lab full of lazy people people who don’t appreciate me (for free, I might add), walk home for 40 minutes, make dinner, watch trash TV with my housemates and go to bed. Maybe have a shower if it’s the right day. And that is it.

It makes me unbelievably sad that I now ‘live for the weekend’ as that’s the only time of the week I get to be by myself (my housemates call me antisocial if I say I don’t want to watch reruns of Take Me Out for the millionth time in a row), or at least use my time how I’d like to. That’s 2 days out of 7 that I honestly look forward to.  This can’t be what life’s about… After my working day I just feel a bit numb. Anyone else?

I think it’s safe to say I now completely understand it when adults say that you have to enjoy your job, as that literally is your life 71% of the time. I know you get evenings during the week off, but if you factor in a commute and the desire to go to sleep as you’re so tired from the stressful work day, that isn’t a lot of time at all. I used to enjoy having routine and still do, just maybe not in a fashion that has been chosen for me. So not to be self righteous or sound like a brat, but I need more than this in my life.

The only solution I can think of is this: you need something/someone that makes each day feel like a weekend. Yes, I know Valentine’s Day is over (thank God) but this cheesy little line is so true. Be it a hobby, pet, friends or partner. A job you enjoy would also help the sense of dread when you realise Sunday is over (being able to help people and contribute to the NHS is definitely a motivator for me!). Or y’know, make some big bucks to try and help ease the pain (a satisfaction volunteering for a year doesn’t grant me unfortunately).

Now, this is hard for me as I have my weekend person. However, he lives 190 miles away and I only get to see him every three weeks. That’s tough most of the time. I know what I want from my ugh-I’m-always-at-work weeknights (a Two for Tuesday from Domino’s and a cuddle), but I’m alone watching Paddy McGuinness laugh at his own jokes.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not TOO depressed at my situation and my breakdowns have subsided a little, I’m just struggling at being an adult.


Keep singing x


I’ve finally been accepted!

HELLO. Guess what? I got a placement! It’s only in a local hospital, and I don’t get paid *cries forever as I have deep attachment issues to money*, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve become a successful human, I’ve finally become accepted.

I’ll be in the Blood Sciences Lab, testing for blood types and Malaria, looking at all the chilly bags of blooooood in the fridge (my blood type, O-, has it’s own fridge; how fancy!), and basically being a laboratory slave for free for a year. But working in the NHS is such a fantastic opportunity and I couldn’t be more pleased. Plus that means mine and my boyfriend’s uni timelines are back on track (another positive, but don’t tell my mum this is one of the biggest plus points…).

It’s nice to feel accepted, isn’t it? Getting that phone call and hearing “Congratulations” is such an uplifting feeling. Making people proud; it’s what I live for.

I’ve had such an emotional 3 months. I haven’t stopped thinking about being rejected once, and have often gone into crying hysterics about being left behind. If there was a big ol’ sign telling me to stop being so bloody dramatic, this was definitely it.

I’m (semi) successful! Move over, Blood Girl is here. See; good things can happen. I’m movin’ on up.


Keep singing x

Jealously is rearing its ugly head, and I could never be more disappointed in myself

Second Year is killing me both physically and emotionally. I’ve been desperately applying to placements (and always getting rejected, apparently getting a First last year isn’t enough), have deadlines coming at me from all angles, and all my friends have their boyfriends over making me ache to see my own (which is hard, he’s stuck studying in Loughborough).

On the topic of placements, I got an interview for one (yay!), only to discover a week later that they decided against taking me on and asked my ‘friend’ to come in instead. I was one of the last three to be chosen from over 200 applicants and I was naturally over the moon. I felt like the actual interview went fine, but I probably failed momentously at the aptitude tests. So now the person that I dislike most in my house is going to take my place. She has no class or caution about the topic either, and will talk about it openly in front of me about how she doesn’t really want the placement. I might shoot her the next time she says that. Ungrateful cow. So that was Wednesday.

I went to try and give blood on Thursday, but somehow I even managed to screw that up. I’ve done it before so presumed everything would run smoothly. WRONG. The nurse pierced my vein in the wrong place and the blood was trickling out excruciatingly slowly. She even got a head nurse to come over and try again. No, don’t worry about me; I love it when people repeatedly poke massive needles in the same place in my arm. I was just trying to do a good thing, perhaps even selfishly use it to make myself feel better and increase some good karma. But alas, I was sent home with all my blood still inside my body. I had a little weep on the bus (classy, I know). I had never felt more useless; a healthy (ish) 19 year old who can’t give blood. What is the point of me?

Naturally I was feeling down, so went out with my friends to a local bar and club to try and feel perky again. It was good for an hour or so, then the music got more trashy and people were canoodling all around me. I also saw a large group of people from a choir I attend on campus. Smiling, trying to make eye contact. Just wanting to show my course friends that I know other people apart from them. No one recognised me. Someone even came over and started hitting on my friend, with me standing RIGHT NEXT TO HER. Yes, sure, alcohol is a funny thing, but when I’m slightly intoxicated I love it when I see people I know when I’m out. Just me? So, once again, feeling very put out.

Here comes Friday, the worse day of all.

My boyfriend was also applying for placements, and still getting the same blanket rejection emails as I was. Until Friday morning. He’d already done an interview, and he’s been accepted. Thankfully I was informed by Facebook Messenger, as I immediately broke down and cried for a solid hour. Why, you ask? Shouldn’t I be thrilled that he’s being successful? Of course. But the title of this post is that I have never been more disappointed in myself.

I am happy for him, he deserves it. But what about me? We said that it was ok that neither of us would get a placement; we would become failed students together. That filled me with a sad hope, at least we’d both finish University at the same time. Now everything has changed again. I am going to be more alone than I ever was before. And he’s going to be in Bristol doing 9-5 for a whole year, we can barely see each other as it is. Oh, and did I mention he starts on the 3rd of July? Second Year doesn’t finish until the 18th June. We’re not even going to get the summer.  I am overcome by dread.

Jealousy has also taken an effect on me; he can’t talk to people, and even stutters when he speaks to me. I am actually a smooth talker with strangers. Don’t get me wrong, he is an actual maths genius, but has the communication and English skills of a monkey. I just can’t see what was so wrong with me? Why am I not good enough? We obviously study different subjects (Planes are not really linked with Biomedical Science, are they?), so the application process and requirements are going to be dissimilar. But the same principles apply. I am just not good enough.

Too much envy has circled through my veins in the last 3 days (especially as I still have the full 5.5 litres of blood in me), and it needs to stop. The wounds are still fresh, but I think after a few more days of being angry and feeling generally worthless, hopefully this will pass and I can enjoy my own company again.

If one more person tells me to “Keep my chin up”, I am going to kill them.

Sorry for the 900 word rant.


Keep singing x


P.S. I’m going to be alone for Valentine’s day (one of my favourite events), just to salt the wounds further. Just a bad few days, not a bad life (we pray, please God don’t let this be a foreshadowing of my future).





I used to have another blog under my actual name, but got embarrassed and turned it to Private. I enjoy writing on here, I miss the idea of people possibly reading my stream of consciousness. My new username is also appropriate as I’ve just started new birth control and it’s making my hormones crazy (sorry if that’s TMI for you).

So, to catch you up, I go to University now and study Biomedical Science. I have just finished my first year and, after getting used to the hard work and loneliness, actually thoroughly enjoyed myself.

I won’t write too much as I’ve already constructed another post on my other website. I feel a cheeky Copy and Paste is in order…


Keep singing x