Book Review: My Sister The Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite

Book Review: My Sister The Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite

• This is Nigerian author Oyinkan Braithwaite’s debut novel.

My sister the serial killer is based in Lagos, Nigeria, and the story is told from the point of view of Korede, the (eventual) head-nurse at St. Peter’s.

• She has this sister, Ayoola, who’s already killed three men, making her a serial killer. Ayoola also starts dating Tade, the guy who Korede secretly cherishes a burning passion for. Actually, scratch that: she loves the guy. Love love. The book opens with Ayoola calling Korede in panic. Ayoola has just murdered her boyfriend of one month, Femi, who used to write poetry. She doesn’t remember Femi’s last name, but she remembers his poetry. This bit hit me so hard. The two sisters then go ahead and clean up the mess and dispose of the body, with Korede doing most of the work – from the cleaning to the driving to the tossing of the body wrapped in three bedsheets they take from Femi’s studio apartment.

• I found parts of the book super interesting, the writing is mostly lucid as well, but to me it felt slightly bland as the book came to a close. The book (hardcover) is a little over two hundred pages long, and won’t take you a lot of time to finish reading.

• The ending’s been left vague. There’s man that comes to visit the sisters and you can totally speculate, but you can’t tell for sure, as to who he could be. Is it a new man, a new target that Ayoola is about to murder with their dead dad’s famous nine inch long ornate knife? Or is it the newly-back-from-a-coma patient, who in his comatose state had become the only confidante to Korede, who wants her for her, now that he’s divorced his wife? It’s up to you to decide.

• The humor is very Sophie Kinsella and the storyline is vaguely similar to the cookie cutter murder books we’ve all read at some point. Also, I love the contrast between the two sisters. While Korede is plain Jane, who shocks people when she randomly wears makeup one day after looking at a YouTube tutorial, Ayoola is a total knockout and a fashion designer who uses social media and men, for her own purposes. And for her designer wardrobe. She’s also messy, and Korede is so clean and organized, she probably has OCD.

My sister the serial killer is a mix of chick lit, deadpan comedy, dark fiction with hints of romance (the way Tade woos Ayoola with red and white roses), jealousy (the way Korede shreds the roses in the dead of the night) and Daddy issues (the father isn’t mentioned by name, but he had been the law in the house and never a father figure). If I had to rate it, it would get a 3.5/5 for good premise, and I would dock points for the rushed and vague ending.

Have you read this book? What did you think? Any recommendations I need to be looking out for?

Instagram – The Dark Side

Instagram – The Dark Side

Have you ever noticed the amount of flaunting that goes on all over Instagram? Go check your explore page right now. You’ll know what I’m talking about. I feel like with the influencer culture hitting cult status very quickly, people think that it’s okay to just act completely differently over on social media than how they’d act in real life.

And I know it’s not just me.

Instagram has changed its algorithm lately. People have been losing their minds trying to fix their engagement rates. I see you tubers and instagram models obsess over their feed. The more people you reach, the more paid promos you get to do, and eventually, you can quit your job and buy that dream Ferrari. And it’s not just the models, I’m guilty of that too. I want my instagram to look aesthetically pleasing.

And that’s when the obsession starts.

Every waking moment, you take photos. You’re on a date and you’re instagmming away. You won’t eat your sandwich till you’ve taken thirty billion photos of it. Carfies, bookfies, shelfies and footfies are now trending. And they’re now actual words. Never mind that they didn’t make it to the Oxford dictionary.

You obsess over people vacationing in Bora Bora and you don’t eat or buy essentials because you want to take a nice beachy photo. You starve yourself so the bikini you bought last summer – and didn’t even find time to cut the tags off of – fits you like a dream. You fake tan enough to put Trump to shame. And the list goes on. It never ends. And you won’t let the obsession go away. You compare yourself to strangers and you want lip fillers because suddenly you’re insecure about them.

You see what it’s doing to you, and you feel yourself getting wasted – so you finally de-activate and decide to never come back on Instagram – only to come back three seconds later because you’ve to see what new lip kit Kylie Jenner is launching. The madness is real, and you love it, and you want it and the itch is unbearable and you keep scratching at it, till you bleed but you don’t stop and you can’t stop. Instagram is more addictive than porn or even Lady Sativa.

How do you fight it?

• You don’t look at your explore page.

• You don’t stalk people. If you don’t like what an account is doing to your mental health, you block that account till one day you forget about it.

• NEVER post about your love life on there. It attracts bad juju. Do you see how many influencers break up with their significant others? Do you see the public humiliation famous people face because they put it all out there? Do you need that? No.

• BOLD REMINDER: the more time you spend on there….

• Make good use of DownTime. You’ll be fine.

Happy Healthy-Instagramming!

Random Deep Thoughts

Random Deep Thoughts

• I just found this article on some blog. You guys need to read it, right away.

Apparently Iceland’s declared religion as weapons of mass destruction. I found it extremely unreal, and soon enough, it was declared a hoax. Fake news. And that we all needed to chill. Well, obviously. I guess religion happened in the first place because people agreed to disagree. In a healthy way. Without deciding to bite each other’s heads off at every instance. But then the Internet happened, and people started misusing resources and here we are today, in 2019, with guns and bombs and heated debates, all going nowhere.

I wish people would stop taking things so casually.

• How did “cancel culture” get so popular? I get it, Jeffree Star is as iconic as it gets but he could use his platform to be a little more well, Jeffree.

• Is it just me, or does Billie Eilish seem to be channeling Avril Lavigne, circa 2002? Here’s Billie. The hair. The very unique voice. The music videos. The baggy clothes.

Tell me this doesn’t remind you of Lavigne. She was a seventeen at this point too, and she was a pop disruptor and she was hailed as Anti-Britney.

Mind. Blown.

• Unpopular opinion – Balenciaga is overrated. I mean, their stuff isn’t even cute.

Seriously, were they drunk while designing these shoes? I mean, who asked for this? Most importantly, who OKAYED this? It looks more like a freaking lawnmower than a shoe. Thank you, pass.

• Cooking is therapeutic. A clean station, chopping onions while channeling your inner Gordon Ramsey when you’re home alone is blissful. Take it from me. Oh my. Oh my. The sheer bliss of having produced a perfectly Instagram-y sunny side up egg is just… *bellissima*

I talk about 🥚 a lot on my blog. I need to stop. Y’all probably think I’m constantly gassy and weird. I’m not.

Do you happen to have a random thought right this second? Let me know!

What Happiness Feels Like

What Happiness Feels Like

So you’ve seen it all. Heard it all. Your back, it’s now against the wall.

You’ve fallen so far down the rabbit hole, you can’t possibly fall any farther down.

Your heart was broken, you fixed it, someone broke it all over again.

One day you looked at your forehead in the mirror, and started smoothing out that frown.

That same day, you decided, you won’t let pain cut into your veins, you’d had enough.

That very moment, you decided, you were done with people and their words – oh such words.

That instant, a fire lit within you, and you with your wounded pride, you picked up the pieces.

Your individuality, it started to shine through, despite how, all this while it lay blurred.

Your frown, where was it, now? Your eyes crinkled up at the corners.

What people called “crow’s feet” and got Botoxed for, turned into your prized possession.

Your lips stretched into a smile, and you felt the iron cage around your heart break open.

Suddenly such a weight lifted and suddenly you never knew depression.

And for the first time in what feels like years, you’re breathing like you were meant to.

You feel unburdened, and it’s not because you’re rich, it’s not because there’s a new man.

You feel like a Phoenix, that’s risen from the ashes they left abandoned in the corner.

You’ve left behind all negative energy and you’re a new woman with a new plan.

You’re going to be unflinchingly yourself – shameless, bold, bad, manipulative – so be it.

They misunderstand you, you don’t care, you’re dealing with it like it’s not important at all.

You’re happy, and finally, nothing gets to you – this bubble around you, it protects you.

And this time you’re sure, that no matter what happens, this time you won’t fall.

Why Puddin’ Is Such A Feel-Good Book

Why Puddin’ Is Such A Feel-Good Book

The first actual physical book I read this year was Puddin’ by Julie Murphy. Right off the bat, I’m just going to go ahead and say it – it’s adorable. It’s weird when you use the word “adorable” to describe a book you’ve read, but hear me out, okay?

Looking good there, Ms. Murphy!

Warning: SPOILER ALERT!

Puddin’ has two protagonists – polar opposite characters called Millie and Callie. While Millie is an overweight, craft-obsessed, good Christian girl who refuses to say the “s” word and calls it bull-“doo doo” instead, Callie is the quintessential pretty girl, she’s on the dance team and she’s also Mexican.

The story starts off with Millie and her mum and their back and forth about her going to fat camp again, which she’s completely not okay with. She wants to secretly be a Journalist and take over the world.

The next thing we see is Callie’s dance team losing their sponsorship, which was supposed to come from Millie’s Uncle Vernon’s tiny gym. So Callie and her team vandalize the place because they’re so mad at having lost their potential Nationals dream. Millie identifies Callie on the CCTV, thanks to the signature necklace she sports. Callie, being a firm believer in sisterhood, refuses to divulge the names of the rest of the girls who were a part of the prank gone wrong, and ends up getting kicked off the dance team. Vernon doesn’t press charges but Callie is asked to work for free to raise the money lost in the vandalism.

After the few initial hiccups including the fact that Vernon’s wife, Inga, detests Callie, Millie and Callie becomes good friends. Since Callie has no friends left and she manages to hurt the reputation of the Shamrocks (the dance team she was formerly a part of), Millie introduces her to her little group of friends. Routine sleepovers become a thing and Millie is given enough confidence boosting by Callie to ask out the guy of her dreams – the only Indian boy at school, Malik. The story of how they fall in love, and their cutesy dates left me going awwww.

Meanwhile, there’s trouble in Callie’s love paradise, and she has a very banshee-screaming, loud, public breakup with her rich boyfriend, Bryce. A slightly overweight guy, Mitch, shows interest in her but she pushes him away because Mitch isn’t her type. We’ve all been there and pushed away people who were perfectly right for us because we felt like they weren’t our type at all. I know I have.

On her last day at the gym, Callie accidentally finds out that Millie was the one who’d told on her to the cops, and she feels betrayed because Millie never owned up and let her go hurt the Shamrocks instead. Their friendship ends. Temporarily.

But whatever is meant to be, will always be, and they become friends again. Millie’s journalism application is rejected but Callie takes her to Austin (AUSTIN OR BUST) and practically bully the director there to accept Millie’s application despite the fact that Millie isn’t the quintessentially skinny or the prefect newsreader types.

The Shamrocks get their funding too, from Bryce’s Dad and his car dealership ways. The ending of the book is super sweet – the girls are all sitting together and enjoying a pool party with their boyfriends, before Millie leaves for the summer program in Austin. She’s also totally twinning with Callie in their retro swimsuits. Go, girls!

The book is filled with beautiful one liners you could either put on a tee or use as a bumper sticker. My favorite?

“Love is in the details.”

And this one too:

I also realize the power of a red lipstick and I’m picking myself up a Revlon Certainly Red 740, the shade Mrs. Bradley (Callie’s Mama) wears. Love comes and goes, but lipstick is forever, you know?

What A Time To Be Alive

What A Time To Be Alive

I mean, seriously.

There’s been a lot of hype on Instagram surrounding this post:

And of course it has quickly surpassed the most liked photo on Instagram – of Kylie Jenner’s baby Stormi. And the likes just keep growing. The #EggGang seems to be going strong, y’all. Considering that this account is barely ten days old.

Like I said, what a time to be alive.

This actually compels me to say something – 2019 is galloping by like a wild Appaloosa on crack. It’s already the fourteenth of January, like what the heck? Slow down. Also, have you guys looked at the articles online about the world ending on January 21st this year?

To quote a paragraph from this article I found on Express:

The upcoming total lunar eclipse, often dubbed the , will paint the skies a menacing red colour over vast swathes of North and South America, Europe and parts of Africa. The Blood Moon is expected to peak on the night of January 21, 2019, marking the second anniversary of President Donald Trump’s inauguration. Biblical conspiracy theorists have now claimed the coincidental date is significant, with some going as far as to claim the world is coming to an end. Chief conspiracist, Evangelical Pastor Paul Begley from West Lafayette in Indiana, warned his followers the Blood Moon is a prophetic sign of the “end times”.

Uh oh. And watching creepy shows aren’t helping me at this point, but I still do it.

Also, I just realized that the past never truly gets swept under the rug. There’s a Bollywood star called Ranveer Singh who made a rather tasteless comment while sharing the couch with his costar Anushka Sharma, on this talk show called Koffee with Karan. Not only does the deliberate spelling mistake make me mad, it doesn’t help Karan Johar’s case at all. To me, he’s a hypocrite who says everything should be all about empowerment while doing nothing to enforce whatever he says. He’s also the same man that coined the catchphrase, “Nepotism Rocks!”, in addition to being a complete headache that encourages all sorts of douchebaggery on National Television.

Both actors are now married to other people (duh), but this video from 2011 that surfaced recently, doesn’t make Ranveer Singh look good at all. Take a look:

https://www.google.co.in/amp/s/www.indiatoday.in/amp/movies/celebrities/story/old-video-of-ranveer-asking-anushka-if-she-wants-her-a-pinched-goes-viral-internet-roasts-singh-1429478-2019-01-12

We idolize the wrong people, really. Recently two of the key players on the Indian Cricket Team were sent home because of sexist comments they made on the SAME show. Like, can we cancel the show already? How is it still getting a huge audience?

I blame the newspapers. The magazines. The media, in general. Indian media is the worst. I’ve never seen one nice thing in the newspapers. The only thing people actually highlight all the time is bad news. Every agency running the show is biased and close-minded in their own ways, and it just keeps getting worse. Nobody needed to know what designers celebrities wear to award shows or who got married to whom recently. Even if they did need to know, the media coverage shouldn’t be focused on the extravaganza. Somebody please get us a newspaper that doesn’t post page three stuff on page one. I’m going mental.

Or at least, have some positive news printed on the front page. How much negativity do y’all want us to start our mornings with?

Romanticizing The Morbid

Romanticizing The Morbid

Sabhyata (@palletesandpaint on Instagram) recommended this show to me. I’d thought that Gillian Flynn’s Amy Dunne was the coldest of the lot. Turns out, I was wrong.

What show am I talking about? Read on to find out.

We’ve all seen Gone Girl or read the book, and we’ve all been weirdly fascinated by the way Gillian Flynn’s mind works. She writes some of the best psychological crime thrillers in my opinion. I had no idea that Caroline Kepnes managed to create a protagonist – or an anti-hero, if you will – quite as fascinating as Joe Goldberg, and he’s clever and calculating and obsessive and I love the way Kepnes portrays him.

Joe Goldberg first makes an appearance in the 2015 novel, You. It’s now a Netflix show, same name, and there’s a season two coming. Oh JOY.

The reason why I found Goldberg so appealing was the fact that he comes across as a harmless bookstore manager. How crazy would a bookstore manager be, right? WRONG. He’s Internet-savvy, and can work Google like a pro. Also, he’s read every book out there and *spoiler alert* knows how to dispose of most evidence. Also, his stalking skills are crazy. It’s kind of chilling, you know? How far a person would go to get the woman of his dreams, whom he ultimately ends up killing. At least Amy Dunne let Nick live. Shudder.

Things people say they do in the name of love.

Now, is the show any good? And is it different from the book?

Well, yes and yes.

I made the mistake of watching the show first and then reading both You and the sequel, Hidden Bodies. It should have been the other way round, just so I could compare better. It’s kind of different from the book, because the producers of the show decided to bring Joe’s ex back. Candace doesn’t make a comeback in the book. Which means that the sequel is going to be way different from Hidden Bodies. Ugh. Now I’ll have to wait for ever to find out what’s going on.

How good is Penn Badgley’s portrayal of Joe Goldberg? On point.

Joe is a completely different character than his portrayal of Gossip Girl’s Dan Humphrey. Sure that character was shady and everything, but it feels like a completely different person. You couldn’t tell this was the same actor. The manic, crazed look in his eyes. The brooding demeanor. Oh my. Everything is perfect.

Apparently the character is so crazy and evil and sinister and all of that, that Badgley was super hesitant to play the role initially.

Left: Goldberg. Right: Humphrey.

I know a few people that happened to get so freaked out after watching the show that they had to go look at puppy videos. I’m not kidding. If you’re someone that’s sensitive and cannot stomach morbid stories, maybe stay away. Someone sent me this meme the other day, which sums up just about everything:

Did you watch this show? Or read the books? Any new Netflix recommendations are welcome. Hope your 2019 is going great.

Stuff I Failed To Comprehend THIS Year

Stuff I Failed To Comprehend THIS Year

It’s almost the end. Of the year, that is. And 2018 was all over the place. I remember all of us praying, like we typically do, for a beautiful new year just last year and then we got well, a load of crap.

The only good thing that came out of all that crap was probably the Me-moji. Case in point:

While this is very cute and seems to have very fine teeth and all, there’s a million things that made me very unhappy this year. Let’s start with the very obvious, shall we?

1. Atrocious Grammar and Catchphrases:

This was the year of the worst grammar out there. I fail to see how “I’m shook”, “It’s lit”, or “It me” makes any sense. Okay, I maybe a bit of grammar nazi, sure. But I’m also pretty sure that *most* English teachers on the planet are actually smacking themselves on their foreheads.

Also, what’s “She’s quaking” supposed to mean? What’s with the overuse of the word “sister”? Why is it okay to say “I’m sister shook?”

Well, young lady/man, I’m sister shook at your sister atrocity. In case you don’t know what I’m talking about, stop reading and Google James Charles YouTuber.

2. The Over-saturated Market:

There’s this pretty huge Instagram page called TrendMood1, and I think she should change her handle to The Enabler. I’ve never seen someone so influential. She could even sell a used tissue, she’s that convincing.

And she’s been phenomenal in helping saturate the already over-saturated beauty industry.

It used to be Kylie Cosmetics alone that would pump out new launches. But now, we have every other brand follow suit. We can’t keep up, and our wallets and finally our interests follow suit. This is coming from a makeup hoarder. I used to buy a lot. I used to buy a lot in 2017. Heck, even in June this year. But now? Every time there’s a new lipstick out, it’s like I’ve seen it before.

3. Bookstagram Drama:

It’s bad enough we have so much drama in the beauty industry, but now it’s spilled over into the world of Bookstagram too.

It all started with my good friend Faroukh talking about sponsorships and ads. Which actually started off a little bit of a war. And then it quickly escalated. And then it moved to Twitter. I don’t think it’s wrong to expect payment for content you’re putting your heart and soul and time and effort into. It’s only fair that when you’re creating content for someone, you expect to be paid. With actual money. No one should be working for free, right?

But oh boy. It did rub a few people the wrong way. And before we knew it, up went a post talking about how freedom was too important and how money doesn’t count. Oh dear. To think we had drama only in the beauty community. What’s next? Gym membership drama? Oh. Popcorn time.

4. Apple and The Crazy Prices:

So Apple is really testing people with the crazy prices. In India, the new iPhone XS Max is priced slightly higher than a tiny car called the Tata Nano.

While there’s no denying the fact that the new phones are beautiful, it does get my goat sometimes knowing that you’d have to buy extra attachments in order for your phone to be properly functional. The stock adapter isn’t gonna come equipped with fast charging. Which is so annoying.

When you pay so much for a phone, it has to be perfect, right? But it is a beauty. Takes amazing shots, you see. Wow, I’m contradicting myself.

And finally…

5. Wedding Fever:

Everyone is getting married.

Everyone. Celebrities. Common folk. Puppies. Like, what the heck?

I don’t understand how people suddenly develop these weird fevers and then go about doing all of it like crazy on crack.

I know at this rate, I’m going to be the last grandma standing.

Help.

Redefining Medical Terms…

Redefining Medical Terms…

I just realized it would be terribly funny to define medical words in terms of human relationships. So here goes, I’m going to try and include each letter of the English alphabet.

1. Aneurysm.

Stress that you experience when your mother in law is bossing you around and you’re forced to play cool, but you’re dying on the inside.

2. Bipolar disorder.

When your relationship with your man doesn’t know where the fuck it’s going. Peachy one day, rotten peaches the next.

3. Constipation.

Being forced into texting someone.

4. Debridement.

The act of gently scraping your partner off of your back because they’ve gotten too clingy.

5. Embolism.

You having casual sex and then ending up stuck with his baby.

6. Farsightedness.

Your inability to spot your cheating partner who’s boning your best friend right under your nose.

7. Gluteus Maximus.

Your overly curvy and irresistibly hot front desk receptionist.

8. Halitosis.

The bitter taste your ex left behind in your mouth. And which still reeks of *bleep and a half*.

9. Ibuprofen.

Your new rebound after your severe heartache.

10. Jaundice.

Wearing the wrong shade of foundation.

11. Knee Jerk Reflex.

The way your react instinctively when there are gold-diggers around.

12. Labia Majora.

A component of the classic modern day love letter. Also called “show vagene”.

13. Menstrual cramp.

Recurring texts from the old summer fling from your teenage years.

14. Narcolepsy.

Your partner’s reaction to your lovemaking skills.

15. Oligospermia.

The number of successful dates you’ve had your whole life.

16. Pineal gland.

Your know-it-all soccer wife. Beats google any day.

17. Quarantine.

The trial period you put someone in, to see if they’re viable to be in a relationship with you.

18. Roth’s Spots.

That one text on your partner’s phone which you shouldn’t be ignoring because it could be the underlying cause of something majorly serious – like side bitchery.

19. Sarcoma.

Every toxic relationship ever.

20. Tetanus.

The lock jaw situation you face once you’re caught cheating and have no valid explanation for your actions.

21. Uvula.

Your supportive partner that prevents you from regurgitating on your way to a successful entrepreneurship.

22. Vas deferens.

Your partner’s super attractive male colleague with the oh-so-amazing pecs – someone who makes you doubt your masculinity while making you feel incredibly insecure.

23. Warfarin.

Marriage counseling when your marriage is stuck in a rocky phase.

24. Xylitol.

Your neighbor with the boob job whose demeanor is extra sweet and also, slightly suspicion arousing.

25. Yersinia pestis.

That one pervert colleague you avoid like fuck.

26. Zygote.

Fruits of your labor. Your startup. Or book. Or anything. Which you nurture like crazy.

I hope you enjoyed this post. Meanwhile, don’t give me a black eye.

10 Things Doctors Are NOT Supposed to Do

10 Things Doctors Are NOT Supposed to Do

I had no idea I was some breed called a “second-generation if random doctors”: the Internet has a lot of opinions and it seems to know you better than you even know yourself. A little disclaimer here, before I begin – I’ve had problems with hyper-pigmentation. There’s a huge birthmark on my right cheek, which is in fact SO BAD, that during my internship at the dermatology department back in the day my professor thought it would be cool to humiliate my face and call it “splotchy” and in need of a makeover because the birthmark was so obvious. I’m not kidding. I know this is workplace harassment and I should have talked to someone – but it’s also India and no one listens. He would regularly poke fun of my face till the day I stopped going to his clinic to work under him anymore. I’ve worn makeup regularly – everyday since – to hide the birthmark because I’m so ashamed of it.

People will break you. Sometimes you have to pretend to be strong, right? I’m not asking for sympathy. I only need someone to listen to my side of the story. Recently, some anonymous user has been bullying me from several accounts, trying to get me to go away. I did that once when I was weak but now I don’t let it bother me too much. I mean, it’s still obviously bothering me since I’ve come on here to talk about it but here we go – a list of ten things that Anonymous thinks doctors shouldn’t do:

1. Make career switches.

I’ve been talking about going into full time makeup artistry and most of you know that. Apparently, I’m disgracing the noble profession of being a doctor by taking up something else instead. I had no idea I was capable of single-handedly destroying reputation. Sigh.

2. Have an opinion.

Everyone is allowed to have an opinion, except doctors. Why? Because we are slaves and we’re only meant to slog.

3. Wear makeup.

Makeup-shaming is still a trend guys, yes, even in 2018. Doctors apparently don’t wear makeup in India because that doesn’t look decent. I thought decency had nothing to do with covering up your blemishes or accentuating your cheekbones. But here we are – turns out I’m wrong. There’s always a mold that you’re supposed to fit in to, but a simple Google search will tell you otherwise. Take a look at Dr. Nill Tavangar.

4. Unfinished residency.

It’s a rat race and every doctor ever is meant to push through till they die. That’s how it is supposed to be. I didn’t know that.

5. Have mental stress issues.

If you’re a doctor and you have issues related to depression and anxiety, you’re not normal. You’re an abnormal freak who seeks attention and needs to die.

6. Be nice.

You’re supposed to carry a Holier Than Thou attitude like a scepter and strike everyone dead because nice doesn’t do anything positive for your career. I did not know that either.

7. Marry someone who’s NOT a doctor.

I don’t understand India and her obsession with doctors. If your kid is one, you’ve to throw her into a pool of other single doctors so she can find a someone with an FRCS degree and millions, and get married and produce doctor children, doctor grandchildren and doctor great grandchildren. Um, okay.

8. Socialize.

If you’re a doctor and you’re socializing, God bless your soul because you’re now a whore.

9. Have a side business.

This is such a big no no. You’re. A. Freaking. Doctor. Where do you find time to manage so many things at the same time?! Go back to your clinic and examine fistulas because that’s what you’re meant to do, you’re not meant to have a blog or run a restaurant or travel places – you can’t. It is not something decent doctors do.

10. Have a life.

You can’t have a life. Your life isn’t yours. It’s everyone else’s and it’s meant to be dissected, critiques and analyzed.

Now tell me: why do you think I’m clinically depressed? And I wish doctors would stop bashing other doctors. This is ridiculous.