It Sucked.

Unsurprisingly to anyone, yesterday was brutally sucktastic, for a variety of reasons. Unfortunately, it started before I even got to work.

First, there was a spam email to Shawshank that Google didn’t catch. Due to prior behavior, I have access to his email, however, I generally don’t go into it. The access is a security blanket for me, and just the knowledge that I can log in is enough for me. So while I don’t read anything – that’s a slippery slope I don’t want to even start down – occasionally, I’ll see a subject line in my browser’s alerts. And that’s what happened yesterday; he got a spam email about an app, and I flipped my shit on him before he even rolled out of bed. For what it’s worth, he did what he could to prove he didn’t have the app installed. He assured me he wasn’t doing anything to fuck up the marriage again.

Then, an hour later, I got a couple of very nasty comments on a blog I haven’t posted to in years. They weren’t public because of the moderation process, and only I saw them. Regardless, totally not cool. I spent the rest of the morning and afternoon upset that someone in my circle of friends was gossiping about me and Shawshank.

I arrived to work at 11 am, and we never stopped moving. DayTech stayed for an extra hour, I was in an hour early, and neither schedule change helped in any way. StressedRPh had me take lunch pretty early in my shift because she didn’t want to be left alone when DayTech left. With the hours cut back in June and the pharmacy closed on Sundays, Mondays usually suck on a normal week. Yesterday was just a perfect combination of factors that made everything worse: closed on Sunday, closed on Monday’s holiday, flu season winding up, and the beginning of the month.

At one point, DayTech told StressedRPh we’d run out of order baskets. StressedRPh, with over 100 orders to be filled, told her “find something else to do”. By the end of the night, I tried to do some stuff that would make my morning easier. StressedRPh, rather than actually help count stuff LIKE SHE’S FUCKING SUPPOSED TO when I’m tied up with the phone and drop-off, data entry, and pickup, did absolutely nothing to make anyone’s life easier. She spent the last 30 minutes sorting and alphabetizing patient orders.

I restrained myself from stopping for fast food on the way home. However, I did buy myself a Coke on the way out of work. I made a chicken wrap, loaded it up with hot sauce and bleu cheese, and ate it in my jammies. After I finished dinner, I went outside and spun the poi for a little while in an attempt to decompress.

I was all set to video chat with Shawshank when my mother called. She asked again about when I’m leaving and what the plan is and when is the border going to open and OH MY GOD THE ANSWERS HAVEN’T CHANGED IN 5 DAYS. I’ve given up waiting for the border to open before it snows. I’ll sell the house and go south for a few months, where I know I’ll deal with a continuing barrage of bullshit about whether I really want to move to Canada. Only, it’ll be worse, because it won’t be limited to weekly phone calls.

Shawshank and I did eventually manage to chat. He showed me his collection of VHS and retro gaming systems. I showed him the cats. We both went to bed telling each other to sleep well, and today would be better. Because it can’t be worse, right? RIGHT? So I fell right to sleep, and slept all the way until my alarm went off.

Just kidding, that never happened. Guess what time I woke up this morning? Go ahead, guess. If you guessed 4:42 am then you get the gold star.

StressedRPh strongly hinted that she’d like me to come in early. I’m not optimistic about the rest of the day.