One last sullen bitch about Bloody Monday.
So far, it's 6:40. I've done nothing all freaking day but Doctor Wordy's notes. The half-dozen clinic charts from last Friday? Still need updating. The half-dozen letters from same? Still need to be xeroxed and mailed. The additional four days' worth of inpatient notes? Still waiting to be delivered to the patients' charts. Three days' worth of intensive care nursery notes? Not even touched yet.
And what do I get to do tomorrow? Jury. Duty.
Also, the cushion on my transcriber's earpiece fell off, and the earpiece itself has little teeth, which I just discovered a few minutes ago when my ear started feeling kind of tickly and I patted it and discovered it was bleeding.
Clearly I'm being punished for being grumpy at my union. The union gods are smiting me, and lo, my own work tools rise up against me and bite mine ear. Dammit.
Cindy and Teppy I mailed packages to you today!
Cindy, the CDs are yours to keep. You can send the videos back whenever.
Teppy, do NOT open your package at work. I threw in some issues of Barracuda my favorite rockabilly retrosmut mag. If you get tired of them pass them on to your Dad or brother.
Aww, honey, come home. I don't want you having no bloody ears. I'll make you a drink and rub your feet and feed you ravioli.
I can't come home! There's so much fucking work to do still!
I'll be home in time for the nightly reading from
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
I promise.
Awww. Look at the cute married couple.
I'll be home in time for the nightly reading from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I promise.
That's crazy, you're already bitter and miserable. As it is, I'm already going to have to listen to you rant about Dr. Wordy for a solid hour just to get it out of your system. I want you to just stop at 7:30 and call it a day.
Dear goddess - save me from teething.
Ooh, Steph, we make that! It is indeed yummy.
Poor Empress and poor Emeline.
Teething is of the suck. Baby Tylenol and a damp wash cloth placed in the freezer for a few minutes often help.
And what do I get to do tomorrow? Jury. Duty.
Poor JZ. It's an awful price we pay to be productive members of society. Needless to say, I'm glad I'm done for a few years cause...bleah.
I'll make you a drink and rub your feet and feed you ravioli.
Good man, Hec.
I'm successfully avoided my craving for a candy bar by having DH buy me a scratch off lottery ticket when he went to buy some beer. If it's one thing that can get my mind off chocolate--it's MONEY.