silver4's Diaryland Diary

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Light at the end of the tunnel

Thursday was a 12 hour shift of torture. Plus the 2.5 hours of commute. Friday was a 9 hour shift of worse torture, nonstop and annoying. I was upset and irritated and didn't get a chance to eat much less breathe (save five minutes to chew on a piece of my sandwich), and found myself shaking during the final hour, mind cloudy, mouth parched from talking incessantly to patients with barely a chance to sip on water during the day. Annoyed at the front office who get the hint that they better not say a single ignorant word to me that day or I will flip the fuck out on them. A problem patient who is a grumpy, cantankerous old man who nobody in the world can seem to please, with a plethora of health problems all of which are the providers' faults (I am yelled at by him every time he comes in), yet he reeks of poor personal hygiene and at least ten cigars a day. We have to spray the office with Lysol or whatever available air freshener is available every single time he comes in. Speaks in foul language and I have to tell him not to speak that way because it is a family practice and kids (and everyone including myself) don't deserve to be subjected to that. Running over in time during the day because of the way things are scheduled, new patients walking out because of the amount of time they have to wait (front office's fault, not mine). Running behind because essentially the front office thinks they can make things right but they are wrong wrong wrong, and yet I'm the bad guy? I do all the damn work that they try to schedule in. Reality check on them though. I'm perfectly fine, I'm not the one with a family and kids at home waiting for me to come in at a certain time. So sorry office, you fuck me over and give me a shit schedule, you are not only screwing me over, you are inconveniencing the patients and making them feel like their time is not valuable, you are screwing with the assistants, and you are essentially screwing yourself over, because you can't leave until I'm done. So I saunter my little ass around the clinic at my own pace because I could give a damn about your priorities when you don't give a damn about the patients.

All to conclude with a three and a half hour drive straight from work last night, in decent traffic. Shaved off half an hour somehow, smooth ride with no complications, and the happy reunion of myself with my JK, all leading to the glory that is the destination of this weekend's travels:

Today I'm going to Disneyland.

I better get a picture with Stitch.

6:19 a.m. - 2012-02-11

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