I don’t need this fucking stress.

It has NOT been a good day.

I walked into work, knowing full well it was going to be StressedRPH. However, she had capable help for the closing half of the day, and I didn’t expect any problems. Unfortunately, I caught hell. One of our regulars came in to pick up his wife’s script yesterday morning and asked if their son had anything. I glanced at my screen and told him he didn’t. Unfortunately, I had been searching for the wife’s last name in the queue, The son has a different last name. That fact totally slipped my mind, even though the whole family are regulars and we all know their last names are different. I looked at the screen and my brain translated that as the whole family. I fucked up, and the parents pitched a fit after I left.

Mind you, the son in question here is in his early thirties. I’d feel worse if this was a child. However, at that age, you can check on your own stuff. I’m especially unsympathetic when he seems to have no problem calling us non-stop about his controlled substances. Additionally, you also lose a lot sympathy when the script was filled on Tuesday, and you come in on Wednesday.

But, I digress.

Shortly after catching that fresh wad of bullshit, the store manager came back to the pharmacy. He had the privilege of announcing that the pharmacy hours are being cut. Come the end of June, the pharmacy will close two hours earlier during the week, and closed all day on Sundays. BossRPh had been very generous with our hours, even though they were supposed to be cut a few months ago. However, this has nothing to do with that. This is a district-wide change to bring us in line with what corporate wants to see based on the amount of business the stores see.

Fortunately, aside from a few busy spurts, the rest of the day went smoothly. MusicMan starts tomorrow as interim manager, and I think he’ll work out just fine.

I came home and made dinner – roasted Brussels sprouts and meatballs. After dinner, I was able to do a quick but good workout before Shawshank called. As expected, he finished Cat’s Cradle, and enjoyed it. “I really like the way he writes,” he told me. I didn’t tell him he’ll be getting Slaughterhouse Five sometime this weekend. The call was the least stressful part of the day. Do you realize how fucked up that is?? It was less stressful to talk to my husband on a monitored, 20-minute call from an ICE detainment prison than any other part of my day.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t heard anything from the consulate about travel documents.

My mom called while I was talking with Shawshank. She wanted to thank me for her birthday/Mother’s day presents. I sent her a bunch of local things so she could remember up here.

We talked a bit about what needs to be done in the house. That just stressed me out all over again. There’s just soooooo much clutter to get rid of, but so much of it I could probably sell. However, most of it isn’t worth anything substantial, and it’s definitely not worth the hassle of trying to sell it on Facebook, Craigslist, or Reddit. It’s going to be really nice this weekend: perfect yard sale weather. On the other hand, the state only just started the first phase of re-opening this week. I’d like to give it a week or two before having a bunch of people milling around a few tables full of junk.

But all that shit needs to get out of here so I can get down to the real trouble: the deep cleaning. I also need to have the front steps fixed, and hire someone to paint my stairway.

Also, I can’t leave until I get my passport. I submitted my passport application 10-days before they stopped processing them. It’ll get done… eventually. I feel as though it doesn’t even matter if I get it cleaned out quickly. I can’t even put the house up for sale because with my luck, it will sell quickly, and I won’t be able to leave.

There’s just so much.