The daily description of my life in hell (otherwise known as the Wann Langston Memorial Library). Pretty much.
Friday, March 29, 2002
What dan does in his spare time:
Searches for new search engines and then emails the results to me.
What I do in my spare time:
Look for a sharp enough pencil to put my eye out. posted by Sadie at 10:47 AM
Sometimes..life just compels us. The complete irreferrence life has for itself - the hope to be worthwhile and not stupid is completely oblitererated in life's strange desire to be both worthless and dumb. But life needs a body to let this desire out. And that's why we do impulsive, not-so-good things. It's not us - it's that bitch life. Cause life hates herself.
There's me - a perfectly good body for life to take out her suicide fantasies on. I have mentioned before that our journals are stored in these huge hanging file looking things. You turn a handle and Poof! new set of journals. People can get caught in them. Like an idiot I was resting my hand on one of the file things while looking at something else..I wasn't actually down the aisle but my fingers were - get it? Anyway, some doctor (very distingueshed and about 50) turns a handle. My fingers get pinched. He looks panicked (doctors have a fear of anyone truly being hurt because they care about all their patients - no wait I'm thinking of some other profession. Doctors are scared of getting sued.) Then, and I don't know why I said this - honestly it was like I was posessed! It comes out:
Thing Dan said to me today about an unopened package:
"Oh? What did St. Anthony's send us? What's in the box?"
God please let it be a bomb. posted by Sadie at 10:33 AM
Wednesday, March 27, 2002
and the the wandering candy eater is here...again. Oh boy. I hope she eats some candy while staring at me. posted by Sadie at 2:38 PM
Mother fucking goddammit!! How much to I hate, yes HATE, patients coming in asking for information? We have doctors for a reason. They train and study for like ten years before doing anything big - trust them. And these patients are always straight down from the Ozarks.
Christ. Then, when I tell them their best bet is to ask their doctor about the complicated medical procedure they freak....then ask me if I know anything about it. What is it with you fucking people? You'll trust a 22 yr. old English degree but a 46 yr old MD might be to irresponsible? What's worse is sometimes...they want to check out books. I know. How the hell is someone who's getting a tube shoved down their throat because they ate poison going to read a medical text? Answer: they're not.
"Your help is needed to locate a missing wheelchair. The chair is new, blue seat covers with Gray Duck tape on back of chair with the individuals first and last name on it. Please take a look at the "chairs" in your area, please help us find this personal chair. Contact Susan Lipscomb, Patient Relations via email or leave a voice mail at 951-8065.
Thanks in advance for your attention to this request."
They have lost someone's "personal" chair. How does that happen? And how come they call it a chair and not a wheelie? posted by Sadie at 9:46 AM
Dan has gotten his hair cut. Good for Dan. I honestly didn't know there was a New Orleans barber circa 1890 in this city. Or that Brillo Man was still on the market. posted by Sadie at 9:05 AM
So Dan came in sweating like a hog yesterday. Which is interesting because it's about eighty below zero outside.
WHY IS DAN SWEATING?? It's disgusting. He was all red faced and blotchy. Even if he sprinted (ha ha) from the parking lot he wouldn't sweat like this.
He must be made of rubber.
Oh, and I'm pissed because he royally screwed my system up with his no system whatsoever style. Bastard. posted by Sadie at 9:04 AM
I'm back!! I don't know how exciting that is but...
Friday, March 29, 2002
