I swear it's nothing to do with me, it's all my sister's fault, but for some reason I take all the flak.
The flak mostly comes in the form of my mother verbally shaking me by the shoulders, well my head was definitely rattling, and telling me I only have three more years.
It's a good job she's not a doctor, as to be honest the whole bedside manner could do with some work.
"For god sake Gordon you have only got three more years left."
"OK, don't worry I'm on it," I reassure her.
"You're on it? What does that mean?"
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