60 calls before 11:30? I think I’ll start my lunch two minutes early, thank you.
Good grief, what a busy day. And it doesn’t help that I didn’t get much sleep. The plan was for Chris to drive me in today, then go get the Dodge smogged. We got to bed late, then I spent most of the night waking up to the various movies Chris was watching because he couldn’t sleep. At 6:30, when I fortunately checked the clock and found out that I was late and still don’t know how to set the new phone alarm, I crawled toward the bathroom and informed Chris of the good news.
“Uhhhhhnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhh, I feel terrible,” he said.
Ditto, but I don’t have much of a choice, so you shouldn’t either.
“UHHHHHNNNNNNNHHHHHHHHHH.”
This means I’m driving myself to work. This is not awesome because I am already running late, but it gives me leverage.
“If you get to sleep in, I’d better come home to a clean house.”
“Oh yessssszzzzzz. I’ll make dinnnnnnerrrrrrr.”
“And you have to clean the kitchen floor really well.”
“Sparkliiiiiinnnnnggggggggghhhhhhhhhh.”
Fair enough. I just had to leave a note in the kitchen to remind him that this was not, in fact, a dream.
So it’s just about noon and it’s guaranteed that I will not get to write once I’m back on the phones. My butt muscles are very unhappy after sitting in the car for so many hours yesterday. I will post some pictures on my break, perhaps. For now, it’s time to slap on my headphones and prop my head back up on my second can of Diet Pepsi.
Deep breath.
“Hi, you’ve reached the communication center. My name is Jenny, I’m non-clinical, and I’m answering for… wait, who am I answering for? Oh, pharmacy. How can I help you?”
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