Last night was probably one of the more stressful nights at my job, and it really wasn't all that bad. Considering the amount of prescriptions we run, it's surprising that there aren't more problems than there are. If people would just hold out for a while, problems will take care of themselves. The check is in the mail, and your drugs are on their way. Trust me--I'm a doctor.
I got home, decompressed with a really fatty roast beef sandwich decked with melty cheese and mushrooms. So good and so bad and the perfect reward for a job well done. Afterwards, I enjoyed Dragonball Z on the CW. Yes, I still watch cartoons once in a while even though they're silly. Reminds me of simpler times.
Then around 10:30AM, I hear the door open and heard the scuffling of more than one person's shoes. So I peered around and saw my bro and this girl, whom I supposed was his girlfriend. Eh, whatever. He didn't say anything about bringing her home, and so I didn't feel obligated to cease making a nice mold of my butt-cheeks onto my favorite part of the couch. That is, I stayed seated enjoying my toons.
--
After introductions,
some girl: so your brother tells me you're a pharmacist
me: uh huh
some girl: where do you work?
me: in hospice at an independent
some girl: where at?
me: (gives locale)
annoying girl: (etc etc etc) why don't you work at a large hospital like MD Anderson or somewhere in the Med center? (etc etc etc) the benefits are better for when you retire.. (etc etc etc)
irritated me: (silently) who are you to tell me what I should do within 5 minutes of meeting me? (spokenly) I really like my job. They treat me well, and there's not much stress.
more annoying girl: (acknowledging and ignoring my comment) It's good you like your job. Not many can say that. (but wanting to reiterate her point) but you know, large hospitals generally have better benefits and such.
irritated me: umm, are you a pharmacist?
annoying girl reveals herself: oh, no, I'm a psychiatrist.
me: (silently) it figures, an MD and a shrink. (spokenly) oh okay. The benefits aren't really that much better. I worked for [large chain retail], and although pay is less, benefits are about on par.
shrink: (etc etc etc, reiterates point and acknowledges that there's politics when working at large facility, but still maintains her initial suggestion that I should try working for a large facility)
me: (maintain almost-rude indifference by watching TV and ignoring the girl in the room)
--
Thankfully my brother gets done doing whatever he needed to do and they left. I'm generally a very nice person when meeting new people, and I generally make a good impression, but not when I'm tired and not when your opening remarks criticize what I do for a living.
Goodness, I thought shrinks where supposed to make you feel better about yourself. She made me want to ask her to write me a prescription for Paxil, take 1 as needed post mindf-cking.
But I wasn't so mean as to ask her, "Biological clock ticking much? You know you're dating a guy without a college degree, right?" No, no, my parents have messed with my head long enough for any shrink to make a dent in this impenetrable defense of perpetual self-doubt. It's like when virus-infected cells can't be infected by subsequent viruses.
--
much later,
me: you missed your future daughter-in-law by 30 minutes?
Mama: oh, really?
me: uh huh. Brother brought his girlfriend home. She's a psychiatrist. Do you know what that is?
Mama: Yes, 4 years medical school and then residency. (not impressed) She must be old, right?
me: (laughing) probably around brother's age.
Mama: (as if he had brought home a crackhead) Well, he can do want he wants. I can't stop him from doing anything. (her typical passive-aggressive way of disapproving)
--
Yep, in a battle of wits, I put money on Mama!
