Sour Mood...and Sauce

One of the girls in my office is out for four weeks following a major surgery and I am her coverage. Which basically means that I get to spend most of my day talking to patients whose nurses don’t want to call them back. This atop everything else I have to do. And let me tell you, trying to balance administrative duties for an ARNP, two staff physicians, two fellows, and three physician assistants is no easy task (all but the ARNP and one of the PA’s are already my responsibility). And I kind of want to strike.

Yesterday, Mrs. P put in a letter of resignation, scaring the bejesus out of me because that meant that after she was gone, I would be left alone with the other one. The other one, being the one who doesn’t like the way I do anything (whether it works or not) because it isn’t HER way and incessantly tries to sabotage everything I put my hands on. Naturally, I immediately started looking to transfer. I can’t bear the thought of getting more responsibility dumped on me (I am pretty much the step-child already) or having to spend every day alone with “the other one”. Thankfully, by the end of the day, the resignation had been lifted and steps being taken to ensure that things get better. I have heard this all before and I’m not buying it. But it gives me some time to not panic and for Mrs. P to change her mind and decide to stay and protect me from evil.

So with the chaos of extra work and the possible loss of Mrs. P, it’s been a little nuts lately. And now, the delivery guy is holding my Chicken with Chinese Vegetables hostage because he can’t find my office (read: follow instructions) and I can’t go and find him (read: escape the chains that bind me to my damn desk) and I’m effing HUNGRY!

45 minutes later: Delivery Boy finally found me. The food tasted sour and disgusting. I ate the rice that wasn’t smothered in sour sauce and 4 saltines for lunch. I want to leave now.

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