Does somebody have a case of the Mondays?
Crankiness has a new poster child. Me. I get in to work this morning, late, with the fill-in doctor waiting in the parking lot. The cleaning crew didn't make it, so I'm rushing around trying to clean the place while he's chittering at me.
Why's it so cold in here? Oh, that would be because DG turned off the heat over the weekend. Lovely. Frickin' icebox. So I turn that on and begin to wonder what I did wrong. Why's there hate on me? Just in time for the wave of patients to crash in the door and cry about DG being gone today. More snarky comments about vacation. Actually, no - there's a family member in the hospital. I don't even feel bad for making them feel bad. Another bad.
Then the therapists poke their heads out of the massage rooms, hair plastered to their heads from the sauna-like conditions. I wrestle with the heater, but it insists that it's still only 64 degrees. I lose. Oh, well. We'll call is hot massage and charge extra for it. Worked for yoga.
Lunch begins with everyone leaving, even Mr. Chitters. But he returns, oh so quickly, to request that I turn off the lights in the treatment rooms so he can nap. Fine. The phone rings off the hook while I try to eat lunch and then succeed in dumping my Izzi soda ALL OVER myself and the floor. Then comes the people while I'm mopping it up and trying hard not to smash the candy dish for real; I just do it in my head, over and over and over.
It's only half past two.
- ▼ April (8)