I think I'm going to emigrate. Somewhere. Anywhere. Far away. With no phone signals. No broadband. No postman. Not even trees for resting carrier pigeons.
Kay's got exams coming up. Every year is the same. She's going to revise as she goes along, not leave it till the last minute. Make notes as she goes along. Learn it all off by heart and backwards. The trouble is life has a habit of getting in the way..... the important must-go-to party here, the obligatory meet-up in the pub there, tidying up a room for the hundredth time in a month. Then there's the lure of finding a late-night shop open for an addictive chocolate bar fix or actually finding doing the laundry an attractive option. Anything but revise. And here we are at the other end of the academic year with something like four weeks until exams and PANIC. The results of these exams next month are arguably more important than her finals will be next year, because the hospitals base their choice of what doctors they would like to hire on this year's exam results, as they start selecting in the autumn of 2014 well before the finals are taken in the summer of 2015. Therefore her whole career will depend on them. No pressure then.
She needs to know just about everything under the sun. She's mentally and physically tired, still on ward placements, also doing a long-term project and trying to fix up her summer placement abroad too. Too much all at once.
I don't know what is worse - being the one panicking or the one being panicked to (or whatever the verb is). All I know is I failed to pack my suitcase in time and emigrate. The phone calls have started already.