Tuesday, March 02, 2010

this day can not end fast enough for me

Ever have one of those days where you wish you had lapsed into a sugar coma from eating an entire bag of jelly beans and washed it down with a Dr. Pepper before work just so you don’t have to leave the house? Sure you have. Or where you wish your place of work went up in flames during the wee hours of the morning and unfortunately all the work that was piled on and around your desk is now a huge pile of smoldering ashes? Or that your eyeballs popped out and rolled under the table somewhere and now you can’t find them? I’m sure you have. In this economic climate it’s just plain wrong to ever say anything like, “God, I hate this job.” Because there will inevitably be someone who is without a job, or knows someone who is without a job, or watched a news segment about someone without a job and who will say, “Well, at least you HAVE a job.” That’s not the point, now, is it? You and I both know we’re glad to be gainfully employed, but c’mon, don’t even try to tell me that every single person on the planet hasn’t said the aforementioned quote at least once in awhile. Personally, I say it all the damn time. Today has been a record for me. I think I said it…and added a few adjectives …about 149 times.
It’s not the actual job I hate. It’s the administrative part of my job that makes me want to jam my own arms and legs into the paper shredder. I’m not much of a desk worker kind of person. I like working with the patients and doing nursing type things. I hate paperwork with a passion and I have more than my share of it in this job. Why just today I received a forwarded email from the administrator of the department regarding my med school issued credit card. Without going into boring details here’s the jest of what I have to deal with on a daily basis. I charge stuff on my school credit card. I get a statement twice a month and have to justify/prove/account for everything on it. I have to have the original receipts and paperclip them in the order in which they appear on the statement with ONE paperclip only, no staples, to the back of the statement. I take copies cuz I trust no one. Then I send it in and all is right with the world and I can spend the rest of the day thinking about puppies and unicorns. That is until they send an email to the administrator threatening to freeze every cock-a-doody credit card in the department if that moron, Ruth in genetics, doesn’t get her papers in order. In this month’s saga, I paid my doctor’s dues for a medical organization. I attached a letter from the dean stating what the charge was for, an email confirmation from the organization stating what the charge was for, and a third confirmation regarding the charge. The forwarded email says, “ please send invoice for this purchase. Receipt does not show what was purchased. “ How many times can you say, “Confirmation for membership dues paid.”?????? Why, I don’t think those folks can read.
This is my life. Everyday something stupid and asinine like this pops up and I want to run through the halls, arms flailing, eyeballs bugging, screaming at the top of my lungs until I find the person who wrote this stupid email and yank their arm off and beat them half to death with the bloody stub. But I digress. I am a person of peace….I am a child of the universe….I am well on my way to being a homicidal maniac if I stay here much longer. And if you’re thinking that I’m just a tad bit on edge…you’d be right. I didn’t sleep last night.
Our state has a budget deficit of almost a billion dollars. Yes, I meant “b” not “m” and let me just say that I can think of a whole lot of jobs that could be eliminated and help with that deficit. In the time it took that idiot to fire off that email, she could have actually done her job and looked at the papers I sent in and processed my statement. As it is, I had to print up the email, get my copy of the statement (precisely why I make copies cuz if anything can go wrong it will), go to the administrators office with the whole shit-load of papers, complain to her about it for 5 mintues, listen to her complain to me about it for 7 minutes, go back to my office, find the form online that I must now fill out, run around like a woman on a mission to get signatures, and mail it back to Reno. Now tell me, how cost effective is this? I rest my case.
Carry on.

1 comment:

Penny Christine said...

Hey! So I'm officially stalking you. Please blog more. :) :) Love you.