My mother is about to make me insane. I don’t know what it is about her that makes me so angry, but I am sure that quite a few of you ladies out there are nodding and saying, “Preach on sista” right now…so I know that I am not alone when I say that I could honestly rip every strand of hair out of my head right now…and if I wasn’t about to go and be pampered by my lovely hairdresser, I might actually do it.
Why doesn’t anyone in this whole god damned hospital know ONE god damned phone number. WHY? I am sitting here, arguing with my mother over email, and these people are calling and I wouldn’t be surprised if they said, “Hi, can you tell me who I am?” They absolutely must find it impossible to be resourceful. I understand the purpose of this job for the people who do NOT work here, but for the people who do? Come on! It really kind of seems like none of the KNOW HOW to look a phone number up in a book. It is a sad, sad world. No wonder Florida places so little value on educating our children, because they won’t need to be educated when they start working…they will all be little lemmings who are trained to know just their specific little jobs and nothing more…and they will all work together to make a problem (which would normally be easily resolved) into a 45 step ordeal.
Note: OH MY GOD…SOMEONE ACTUALLY JUST CALLED TO ASK ME WHAT EXTENSION HE WAS CALLING ME FROM. HELP!
I think I have to be done with this post. I just need a cigarette. Do you see what not smoking for eight hours does to me?