Today's lesson was "Canada's Health Care System: Community, Caring and Sharing". I could feel various symptoms drifting through me as the day dragged on.
First, paranoia: This is a joke. They're trying to fuck with me. There's no way they can make me sit through a 6 hour session on caring and sharing. I'm not five. They're messing with me...
Next, avoidant behaviours: I could just get up and leave. I could be on a plane to Melbourne in 24 hours, back at work at St V's within a week. I'll break my lease, abandon my new bed and walk away, never come back to Canada again!
Then, denial & distraction: La la la, I can't hear this woman telling me that the most valuable tool I have are my ears. Instead, I will go on twitter and read about Ian at the Junos. I will look for couches on Craigslist. I will urgently try to text people in Australia. Because if I don't pay attention, I don't have to acknowledge that this is happening to me.
Finally, psychosis: All these motherf**kers are beneath me. I will use my lazer eye-beams to fry them in their skins (extra-crispy!) and then fly out the window. To New Zealand. Where I'll join Bert on the Tongariro Crossing and we'll eat all the scroggin we can carry.
I suppose the silver lining to these nuff-nuff classes is that they allow plenty of time to (covertly) read my textbooks under the table. Today's topic? Identifying psychiatric disease. Handy.
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