Thursday, July 29, 2004

Rantylicious 

UMAT last year: apply, get admission ticket, go inside, sit test.

UMAT this year: apply, get admission ticket, queue up in the wrong line to get chair number, queue up to go up escalator, go back to end of line because pencil cases are not allowed, queue up to go up escalator, go back to end of line because WATER BOTTLES are not allowed, hide tissues in pocket because they're not allowed either, join the mile-long loo queue, go and get water from the stand, find that there is no water, contemplate drinking tap water from toilet hand-basins, gross self out in the process, finally get water when bottle is refilled (probably from hand-basins, tastes gross), get out stationery, get told off for putting watch on table, put on watch which is a heavy gold men's one because that's the only one I could find with a second hand, synchronise said watch, fiddle with stationery, fiddle with clothes, stretch, meditate, stretch, yawn, un-numb ass from waiting, finally sit the test, curse luck of sitting behind someone stinky, crow at recognising questions from last year, realise that most probably will get the answers wrong again, finish test, inch outside while caught in crowd, walk half a mile because supervisors won't let people go out the same way they came in, contemplate selling watch to get money to call mother, find mother.

UNSW med applications last year: fill in form, give to teacher, teacher sends form.

UNSW med applications this year: forget that form is due TOMORROW, stay up until 2am to bullshit way through form despite having to wake at 6am for 8am lecture in the morning, rush from dismal 8am lecture to print the bloody form, lose and refind FG in the library in the process, accost French grammar lecturer to be academic referee although she wouldn't know me from Osama bin Laden, go to OTC to get Arts faculty stamp, find that office has moved, run back, get lost in Physiology, ask directions at Psychology, find Arts, wait in very very slow queue, get desk guy to stamp the bloody thing, wait until desk guy calls up said grammar lecturer to confirm she is in fact not an impostor, wait until desk guy confirms that I am not am impostor and using the stamp for nefarious purposes, buy envelope, ask pie stand lady for directions to the post office, buy stamp, send form.

Chances of getting into med last year: medium, thanks to kickass ENTER score and high number of places for school leavers. However, shitty UMAT. Failed to get a single interview.

Chances of getting into med this year: dire, due to shitty uni scores (can't BELIEVE 13 weeks at uni kills your chances by like 70%), fewer unis that offer non-yr-12 places (here's lookin at you, Monash, damn you), and fewer places at the unis that do. Chance of getting better UMAT score.

Motivation to do med: still meh, but less meh than last year. Med is scary, but then again so is law (and I'm damn sick of squirming when saying "Arts/Law" because Arts is so flaky and Law is so up-yourself so you end up seeming an arrogant flake).

# posted at 3:08 pm

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