I've never felt so alienated and stressed out by incompetent coworkers before.
This place, this shitty ass, sucky place, and the dumb asses I have to work with, makes me want to cry just about every day while I'm there.
Yesterday, I found myself blinking back tears in a patient's room, and had to step into the bathroom to wipe my eyes and set my shoulders, and breeze back in the room pretending this lacrimal duct dysfunction was due to me obviously cutting onions at the nurses' station like five seconds before stepping into his room. He was such a nice guy, but I was getting shoddy indifference from a secretary, shit on by the nurse manager again, feeling like I was drowning in my own shit, which I was.
By four o'clock in the afternoon, all I could think of was going home, going to my freezer, and starting in on a bottle of vodka. I swear to God, it's gotten that bad.
Worse yet, the only friends and family that understand I'm going through hell are hundreds of miles away. I have no idea how the hell I'm going to keep it together to work another assignment, unless things are drastically better in health care in the pacific northwest. I hold out a thimbleful of hope, but don't dare to go beyond that.
Mostly, I'm hoping I can resist learning enough Latin to start swearing fluently at these assholes at work, and getting locked up in a psych ward for an "evaluation of expressive aphasia and brief lost of contact with reality."
I'm losing it. (Or, I fear I've already lost it, and am never going to find it again.)
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2 comments:
If I'm lucky enough on my next move to find a place like the one I had in Nashville, there might at least be basement space-- you could just go (literally) underground and knit subversive clothing while detoxing during the time it takes me to write the dissertation.
Wow, Katy! There's a deal! I promise I won't agonize over the fake stress of my wedding planning, and how emotionally draining it is to choose party favors and create seating arrangements, like some of the dipshits I work with currently, who wouldn't know the meaning of emotional and intellectual substance if came and bit them in their bustled, cathedral train asses.
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