Tuesday, May 25, 2010


When school began to wrap up for the semester I began to worry about my summer schedule and working. I always work full time in the summer and the funds enable me to tide my way through the long winter months when I am incredibly broke.

This time around, however, there were not enough hours to go around at the Vet clinic. Essentially, I was screwed. Everyone had taken the good hours (and why shouldn't they?) and I had....two days a week.

I decided to get a second job. I lasted one week there before realizing that if I had to spend another week there I would become the most sad, depressed, emo person on the planet.  And that is something that is simply not allowed.

So I decided that I would just see what happens, and stop trying to fight God's timing. (Something I always tend do to. Yes, I am an impatient person)

Two days later I get a phone call that a co-worker took an unfortunate fall down a flight of stairs (I didn't do it, promise!) and that as a result she had broken her foot and wrist, would be requiring surgery and that she would (obviously) not be able to work as usual, and that her hours were now mine.

Sounds great....until I get another phone call telling me that I get to do her job which is something I actually don't want to do. Fancy that! See, I work up front in reception. I like it, I love interacting with clients and their pets, I like my up front co-workers, I like answering the phone, making appointments, getting first hand knowledge of what's coming in, etc. This is the job I applied for almost two years ago, and this is the job I would like to stick with until I can become gainfully employed as an EMT.

See, my co-worker works "in the back" as an assistant to the Veterinarians. The times that I have been in back have often been so-so experiences, and most of my memories of "being in back" bring back thoughts of A) God awful smells B) Seeing/hearing God awful things/sights C) Trying not get bitten by any animal, D) Not knowing what I'm doing and playing the charade that I'm just having a peachy old time helping out, or E) All the above

So now, I get to "work in back" three days a week and spend one day a week up front. Not quite the answer to prayers I was hoping for (especially at the expense of my co-worker) but who am I to complain? So I'll be in back, trying not to vomit when things get gnarly (oh the stories I could tell...) and try to make the best out of this strange, strange situation.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

How Not to Win My Heart

Conversation yesterday:

(When trying to find out if me and male suitor are "compatible" with each other)

  • You're too social
  • You have too many guy friends
  • You have too many pictures with guys on Facebook (Hint: No I don't. Unless you count my cousin and pictures that were taken TWO years ago)
  • Your career choice is all wrong because..... I'm in a male dominated field, I'm a nice person so naturally this combination will attract males, and I'll have men dying for my affection all over the state
"So....are we compatible? Should we date?"


Monday, May 10, 2010

I Hate the Doctor's Office

For the last two years, I have had a moderately severe thyroid problem. Every so often, my body decides that my thyroid is akin to evil and thus decides to go haywire and attack it with intent to kill, thus creating symptoms of extreme sleepiness (I could sleep for ten hours and feel like I got zero), "brain fog" (I call it stupidity) and lack of energy (Finally! An excuse for being lazy! hahaha)

Of late, I've been experiencing the above symptoms and thus decided to make a visit to the good old doctor for blood work. I hate my doctor's office because it is always (I cannot emphasize the word "always" enough) a mix of annoyance and confusion on my behalf. Also, I think the employees of the clinic think I'm somewhat insane because I'm very sensitive to my thyroid going on the killing rampage, so let's just say in the last few years I've been at the office close to ten million times.

So I make my routine phone call, and immediately there is confusion. The conversation goes like this:

Me: Hi, I'd like to make an appointment to get my thyroid tested.
Receptionist: Uh...today? Do you need to see a provider or can a medical assistant do it?
Me: A medical assistant could do it, sure. And today would work
Receptionist: Uh....let me transfer you to the medical assistants, they can make the appointment.


Medical Assistant: Hello, this is _______
Me: Hi, I'd like to make an appointment to get my thryoid tested
Medical Assistant: Uh.....can I put you on hold?

Five minutes go by, and in the background, I can hear the staff talking, laughing and catching up over what they did over the weekend. Finally, someone picks up the phone and I make an appointment.

Appointment time comes, and I arrive at the clinic. I check in, and then.....I sit. For thirty minutes. Country music is playing, and there are Spanish people everywhere. Everyone is speaking in Spanish, so I have no idea what anyone is conversing about, but in the intermittent pieces of English that are spoken, I see a young Hispanic man flirting with a receptionist and the office manager is telling him to put on a client satisfaction survey the "thing he most likes about the clinc is that the receptionist is "hot". Bursts of laughter are heard.

As this young man is wooing the receptionist, I observe that his voice is strangely familiar. I look up, and automatically remember that this is a young man who tried to have a fling with me three years ago when he was a cook in a restaurant and I a server. At the same time, he either remembers me or is just enjoying cajoling with women, that he starts pacing back and forth in front of the reception desk and continually stares at me. I continually ignore him, praying that my time to be seen will be soon.

Called back into the exam room, I get my vitals taken and then sit there for about twenty minutes more, with the only magazine in the room to read a Mothering magazine on how children "just want to be cuddled."

Outside the exam room the staff is laughing and talking about movies they have seen recently and the deals they got at the movie theater. At the room next to me, someone is pounding at the walls.

Finally, someone steps into the room. I had requested a blood draw only, but the nurse practitioner feels it is necessary to examine me. She takes one look at me and asks if I've lost weight. (No. Did I look fat the last time you saw me...?) and then proceeds to tell me how good I look.

She pulls out her stethoscope and listens to my heart, but also places it up against my throat. What sounds can you hear via the thyroid gland? ...

As she lifts up my shirt to listen to my stomach (why?!?) she talks about the need for her to get new underwear what with these new low rise pants that are on the market these days. Then she proceeds to lift up her shirt, and roll down the top of her pants so that I may see her nice orange and white underwear. (Gee whiz! That's some flashy underwear!!)


Finally, she leaves and a medical assistant steps in. She sticks a butterfly needle into my arm, gets the flash, and then....nothing. I really hate the feeling of having a needle stuck into my vein. It hurts. A lot. Since no blood was coming out, she decides to re-adjust it (wonderful feeling, having a needle moved around from within your vein) and finally, the blood flows out.

I finish up, and the woman checking me out cannot figure out how much my co-pay is, and though she speaks flawless English she is converting back and forth between this and Spanish. At long last, she figures everything out, and I am on my way.

Thyroid results are pending, but that's another story.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

How to Dissaude a Pursuer

There I was, sitting at work enjoying my day. I like my job because I get to sit behind a desk and greet clients and interact with the public.

This client walks in, and as a precursor here, I know he's been interested in me for about the last ten months. Sort of those...."like at first" sight moments. He's always been nice to me, but you know...it's just awkward when you know someone likes you.

But anyway...

So he comes in, and makes general small talk and then asks, "Do you live up here? I never see you around." (This is because where I live is a place for retirees and for people who like to go to bars and party, of which I am neither) Then he asks if I have any friends up here (No! Notta one! ...not.)

I explain as much as I can, and give him what he originally came for and he is on his way. Except that half an hour later, he's back. I greet him again in typical fashion inwardly cringing because I know it's coming...and sure enough he asks:

"Would you like a new friend up here?" (Seriously?)

And of course, I'm the kind of person who can't say no right off the bat, so I sort of give a mumbled "maybe...?"

Well, we get to talking and turns out we have some things in common. He's going into the medical field, and so we share stories of patient care, listening to lung sounds and how hard it is to figure out what it is you're listening to, etc.

Meanwhile, all I can think is "He's going to ask for my number soon..." (I've always hated that initial, "Yeah! Let's exchange numbers! Totally!" deal.

As this is running through my head, I have a secondary, brilliant idea to ask him if he goes to church. Simple question, right? So I ask him, and it is as if the conversation comes to a grinding, screeching halt. You would have thought I asked him "Do you want to get married this weekend?"

He tells me, no, he does not go to church. He asks me if I do, and I respond with a yes and we chat for a minute more about it, and then just like that, he leaves.

Aah, a big sigh of relief! No asking for my number, no promises for future hang out sessions, nothing.

I go back to my nice and enjoyable workday. And then the phone rang. (Again, totally normal. I work in a vet clinic; of course the phone is going to ring)

I answer in my chipper voice, and I get in return:

"Hey Sarah, this is ______ " (the guy who I had just seen and avoided being asked out by)

He goes on to tell me that he really appreciates that I told him about my "religious beliefs" (Really, I didn't. I just told him I go to Church.) but that, it simply won't work in a relationship. Wait, I'm sorry. Did we discuss dating each other? Did I miss something?

And then he tells me sayanara, and disconnects.

So, lesson learned. If you don't want to go out with a guy/girl, just ask them if they go to Church. Apparently, the idea is appalling.