Working my fourth night, overtime, having only 4 hours of sleep, and I was swindled by a secretary to do it. I can't wait to call her at 2am and ask where the paperclips are.
This morning, I drove home, and the snow was coming down in big, fat flakes. Here comes the blizzard! I stopped by the store and just decided to do all my grocery shopping because I figured I would be holed up in my house for the next four days.
After driving home, putting away all my crap, and taking a quick "wash the germs off me" shower, I finally settled into bed around 10:30.
Around 2:30, a friend stops by because he happened to be in the neighborhood and wanted to see the house. Midway through the grand tour, he realizes that he's already seen this house, back in April, when he was looking to buy one. A quick visit, and he departs. I peek outside and see that the doomsday blizzard that was predicted turned out to be just the same twelve snowflakes blowing around. How typical.
A little after 3pm, the secretary from my floor calls, telling me that a nurse has called in, leaving the night crew in dire straits, and can I come in? I tell her that I can come in at 11pm. She tells me they are really short. So, I cave and agree to come in at 7pm. From there, I go back to bed thinking I may get to squeeze in an hour nap before I have to get ready for work. Whatever.
Mom then calls. Can Boyfriend bring stuff over Wednesday night to store in my basement? I agree because he's giving me a $400 lawnmower that's never been used in exchange for a few months storage space, and it has already been decided that I'm easy when it comes to appliances and power tools. Mom then blathers about him taking to her Barbados in May on a yacht because he's going to be teaching some people how to scuba. My only words of wisdom: Don't fall off the boat.
I barely close my eyes when the alarm goes off. Defeated, I shower, warm something in the oven for a quick dinner, get dressed and come to work. I enter the floor and check the staffing to see who called in. Instead of the situation painted to me by the secretary, the picture I see isn't nearly as desperate, and I could have come in at 11pm without causing any hardship to my coworkers. I give the secretary the finger and announce to the entire floor she is now on my "list".
To top it off, I get an email from my realtor: a water bill still in the name of the real estate company that sold the house, and a notice telling me that they are going to turn the water off Tuesday. When I closed on the house, I called all the utility companies to have everything transferred to my name: gas, water, electricity. The lady at the water company didn't strike me as being a mental giant, but she assured me that she had all the information needed and would get it passed along to the person who takes care of such matters. This didn't happen.
So now, I have to try to locate someone with a half a brain working in the Water Department of Kansas City (and considering it is City Hall, that might take all day) tomorrow, and rip them a new one. I'm going to be tired, cranky, and primed for delivering ass-chewings in the morning. If I did my job as crappy as they do theirs, all my patients would croak. Every. Single. Night.
But what can you expect, they are products of the Kansas City, Missouri School District.