Anyone trashing the classic synth-rock tune from the 80's will be swiftly e-kicked in the teeth. Europe rocks (yes, rocks, not rocked-they are still alive and kicking), "The Final Countdown" is one of the greatest cheese-fests of all time, and anyone who disagrees can bite me.
Now that I have made the rules of the game clear, let's start playing.
What game? I don't know, but I feel like blogging about something this fine Friday evening. It is nearing midnight, I will hopefully get a bit of shut eye soon, and this is the final day. Ever. Period. El fin. My final day/night as a medical student. What better way to spend that then 24 hours in the hospital, hanging with the critically ill, half of our patients teetering between life and death, many of them living only on our very last and best ideas? I can think of no finer last hurrah.
Come tomorrow morning, I walk away. Oh, sure, I will be back here and there (I will have some scrubs to turn in-and probably some to carry with me as a souvenir), and graduation is still two weeks from Sunday. But who cares? Not I. This is it. I am done, might as well stick those initials after my name and pin a rose on my nose.
Seven hours baby. It's the final countdown. Huzzah.