Daylight Savings Time.

So Daylight Savings Time has come around, once again, and I love it. Without adjusting my clock, it allows me to wake up at 5:00, while technically waking up at 4:00.

This leaves me two hours to tape up my broken work-clothes, paint on old sheets, shower, finalize reports for College Government, find out why my headscarf isn't fitting as snugly as I'd like, reinstall my Paint tools, draw for the Blog again, make coffee, make tea, make breakfast, and such.
This sense of extra time was momentarily cut short, today, when I realized the bottom lock to my home is broken, and spent two hours looking for a way to get indoors before it got dark -- dark is a dangerous time of day.

Applying for Scholarships is proving to be a bit more of a task than I've anticipated.
I've done eight and I need to reach a quota of twenty. This is particularly frustrating when the councillor I was fowarded to has no time to handle my petty requests for an opportunity to boil-down Iona College, which has proved to be a bit sketchy with its details. I have to leave a big, drawn-out "Uhhh..." anytime an application asks for the price tag on my post-secondary education, and they're piling up fast in my portfolio...

What's worse is, the Councillor is proving to be a bit unprofessional. She only today told me, after the put-together of my portfolio, that I need to hold the entirety of it together solely with paperclips, or the schoolboard will not handle it. I told her I'd already used staples, and she waved me off, saying I need to just reprint the forms elsewhere. I told her it was a big inconvenience, with my printer being low on Ink, as well as theirs, and that printing the thirty papers gathered so far would cost me a few slim dollars at the local library. I asked her why the information was so last-minute.

She said, "We'd forgotten."

"We'd forgotten"?
That doesn't work for me, when you make me sign a legal document to create this portfolio.

...I'm making it seem much more epic than it was, I'm really just miffed that my portfolio's been tossed into a recycle-bin until I can get to the public library...

In closing, now that I can use Paint again, I've drawn you this peppergun.
I was trying to decide why it's my favorite weapon to use in non-lethal takedowns for Deus Ex, when I suddenly imagined spraying Unzan into someone's face like Pepperspray, or throwing a Tear Gas Grenade, and having Unzan fill the room like, "Don't mind me - don't want to be a burden", while corrupt Secret Police cough and wheeze.

It seemed like a good idea at 4:00 AM.

Why I'd Like to be a Doctor.

Up until this point in my life, I'd found myself questioning why I wanted to be a doctor. I'd managed to feel-out a few of it's origins in a few things when I was small - I was always told that Medicine is the greatest career, aside from Archetecture, that I could pursue. I was kind of eager to live as a traveller when I was eight or so...

I read about the Amazon and places like it, and I decided I wanted to trek through there, and see animals nobody's heard of, and eat fruits you won't find in a supermarket...

When I grew older, this changed to the Former USSR, and I imagined admiring the austere skylines of Kremlin, or watching traditional welcoming dances in Croatia.

Then, I read the acclaimed Copypasta, "Damaged Goods".
It's a journal of questionable authenticity in which an anonymous Nurse somewhere around Washington lobbies for the custody of a young girl he'd come into the care of while working in the field of geriatric care.

Supposedly, he's since adopted her and vanished from the web as a father, the last entry stating she's fond of video-games and he's found himself very busy.

I spent three days reading that. One sitting, no less.
I was so inspired by it that I saved it all, lest I ever forget it inspired me...

It's easy to attribute your choice in careers to your parents, or from things you read when you were fourteen. It's very easy to play it aloof, and say you don't have any input beyond that, but I stopped and I thought...

There was a moment I've yet to forget. I was visiting extended family in Oklahoma - I've never been fond of the company of my Grandparents on either side, so I went to sleep at my Cousin, Jarad's. Jarad's father, Charlie Bly, is really fond of me, and I like him because he's so old and kind.

I had been watching Jarad planning to purchase a lizard, and parakeet, and playing games, and I remember I'd cleaned his room, which kind of embarrassed him. Suddenly, it was 3:00 AM. He went into the sun-room, because Charlie Bly is kind of wealthy, and he went to sleep on the Sofa. I was sitting there by him while he slept - he left the television on, and the video to "Handlebars" came on.

That was really profound. I didn't know why it was, at the time, I just new that it defibrilated something in me, and that the part was working, and has always, since. I'd kind of left it latent, knowing that it was working, but not really knowing what it did or why it was there - Y'know, kind of like your appendix or your tonsils.

I was playing Deus Ex earlier. I exclusively use Police Batons and Pepper-Spray to handle people who'd love to kill me...

Then, it hit me.

Nukes, Bombs, Tanks, Anti-Tank Rifles, Regular Rifles, Handguns, Handcannons, Hands.

Some of the earliest human skeletons found have arrowheads in them.

We're really creative at destroying eachother.
It kind of dictates politics - it determines which 'Superpowers' are worth negotiating with.
We're poised to blow a nation up, from the Cold War, and that's why we're likely having such a difficult time in the Middle East, where we're trying to keep civilian casualities down.

The battlefield is a parade of human ingenuity.
Isn't it a shame that it's so brilliant?

$1,600,000,000,000 is spent in Military Products globally, not counting research.

We've manufactured enough explosives destroy the world four times over.

That's a brutal, brutal science.
Terrifying statistics.

I don't want to be part of it.
I'd rather be the other portion of innovation.
I'd like to help people, not because I like people, but because I'd rather not hurt them. I feel gratified when someone doesn't feel worse because I was around to say, "My Journal of Medicine says to do this", or "This is why you're feeling like this". I want to impliment the ingenuities that keep people alive, that save lives.

Suddenly, I don't give a damned if Medicine is Socialized.
I just want to know people will feel better because I've given them my time.
I don't know if I could be a surgeon...
It's suddenly something to look into.

Today's picture is from Pyonta. It is a step by step guide to drawing your very own aspiring doctor.