I don't know if you are ready for this......

The past few weeks have been shit. Not complete shit because some great things happened such as my Granddaughter Maija being born.

Work has sucked. I’m not sure if I am just getting burned out since I have been doing this for 5+ years and dealing with sick, older patients can really be draining, or if I simply need a vacation. Things that don’t normally bother me are making me crazy. Every time the phone rings it is like nails on a chalkboard. As some of you know, I stupidly agreed to work for another doc bringing me to two total. It has become very, very hectic. I am used to a very busy office, but lately I just want to stand in front of a semi.

Yesterday it all came to a head. I was having a particularly difficult day. Every three seconds someone was calling with an issue. Then, it all hit the fan.

My doctor was in his office making phone calls. Another doctor from here, we’ll call him Dr. Dickhead, called and wanted to speak with Dr. Pepper (remember, name changed to protect the innocent). I advised Dr. Dickhead that Dr. Pepper was on the phone but would call him back as soon as he was done. Would Dr. Dickhead like me to page him or call his office when Dr. Pepper available? He asked me to call him in his office. My doc gets off phone and I pass on message. He says ok to get Dr. Dickhead on the phone. I proceed to call Dr. Dickhead’s office and his stupid whore of a secretary tells me he’s not in there, to page him. I say, ok that’s odd he said to call him in his office and it has only been about a minute, but whatever. So, I page Dr. Dickhead. In the meantime, Dr. Pepper gets another call. Dr. Dickhead calls back. I tell him that Dr. Pepper got another call and it should just be a second. Then the screaming began. Dr. Dickhead “I NEED TO SPEAK WITH HIM.” Me to Dr. D “I called you and your secretary said you weren’t there. So then I paged you………(trying to say in the meantime someone else called him)” Dr. Dickhead to me “AND I CALLED BACK.” Me to him (in my mind) OBVIOUSLY NOT FAST ENOUGH YOU COCK SUCKING MOTHER FUCKING BASTARD. Me to him in real life “I’m really sorry, I’ll have him call you again.” There was more of him yelling at me and then the call ended. I then proceed to start leaking at the eyes.

I have dealt with this Doctor before. He is always very rude, very abrupt and a general jerk. I know this. Yesterday it was just the icing on the cake.

So, my doctor gets off the phone. I page Dr. Dickhead. Before Dr. Pepper picks up the phone I tell him “you may want to ask him not to scream at me again. That would be great.” While saying this my voice takes on that I’m going to lose it RIGHT NOW quality. I basically run away from my desk to the ladies room where the eye leaking continues. Luckily one of my coworkers comes and finds me and takes me on a 15 minute walk which really helped.

Fast forward to about 8:30 or so last night. I am home and remember that I need to look for a copy of my auto insurance because somehow I don’t have my copy in my car. Would suck if I get pulled over as it is a state law to have proof of insurance. I go in the downstairs bedroom closet. IT STINKS. I start moving stuff and I see mildew on the door to the crawlspace. I immediately call Dave, who is pissed at me because I am in such a foul mood due to my lovely day/weeks at work. Dave comes down and takes the door off. Paper stuff right inside the door is ruined. He then starts pulling up carpet in the closet. It is all soaked and mildewy. No idea what the fuck is going on. There is a water line in the crawl space behind the closet, but that isn’t wet. Dave thinks it might be the outside spigot somehow leaking into the house. Just wonderful. Just fucking wonderful. The house must know we are trying to sell it. It is turning into the money pit. Spent over $300 last week to get the septic pumped. Can’t wait to see what this costs us.

I decided then that I just needed to go to bed.

Woke up this a.m. felt somewhat rested thanks to my good friend ambien. Felt pretty ok all morning until I drove to work. Fucking traffic. I really don’t know how much longer I can take this hour + commute. When I move it will be just as bad – still an hour just from another direction. I think I need to find a new, less stressful job closer to home maybe in the basket weaving industry.

My face is breaking out like a teenage boys and this is all stress related. Thanks stress, you bitch.

I hope everything works out in the end and we sell our house and without that stress I’ll be able to handle the stress of work a little bit better like I used to. Until then, guess I’ll keep a supply of Kleenex, and ambien!

OK, pity party over…..for now.