Pants are part of the dress code.

Greetings and salutations, my friends. Good morning, and happy Tuesday. I’m awake, but just barely. I seem to have figured out the optimal cocktail to ensure I pass out as soon as I hit the pillow. However, it comes with a drawback, as does everything good, and I never want to get out of bed when the alarm goes off. But my coffee, while it could probably be a little stronger, is doing its job adequately.

Yesterday was one of those days where it felt as though every single person I dealt with had some sort of issue. Someone called and said we only gave him half of the amount of tablets he should have received. Someone else argued with both the pharmacist and DayTech, upset about things we couldn’t control and the fact we had the gall to ask her to call her own insurance company. I dealt with an old man who said someone called and said he had a package in the pharmacy. He was already charged for three bottles of medication, he didn’t know what they were for, he’d only went to the ER for his leg. He said he didn’t want to take these pills, and absolutely was not going to pay for anything else, and could he return these? Once I was able to get this old coffin dodger to shut the fuck up and let me talk (while he insisted that whoever he spoke to on Sunday didn’t let HIM talk) I explained he didn’t have a PACKAGE, someone had left the PACKET of his hospital discharge paperwork at the register. I’m still not entirely certain he understood anything at the end of the call; he continued to insist he wasn’t paying for anything when he finally hung up.

DayTech and I decided that while the fill-in pharmacist we worked with yesterday is nice enough, he annoys us. We could have a bunch of work to be done, and he’ll stand around as though he doesn’t know what to do with himself. MusicMan, on the other hand, will jump in and count shit. We have MusicMan today, and we’re cool with that.

Shawshank set up a new phone yesterday. I saw the charge come through the bank account and wisely decided to take my lunch so we could chat. He’s using a museum-quality iPhone, but it can text and do the basics and that’s all he needs. He walked around TinyTown and took pictures of town. We texted most of the day and had a couple of phone calls thrown in as well. He sounded happier than he has in a while. He has a lot of shit on his plate right now, but he’s dealing with it.

It’s mostly just a cycle of bullshit, like someone’s dog walked around in a circle while it took a dump. He needs a job to get some money, but he needs an ID so he can get a job and a bank account. He needs proof of residency to get an ID, but he can’t prove he lives there because he doesn’t have anything “official” – like a pay stub – with his address on it. They have a trip out to Walmart planned for today. It’s a two hour drive to get there.

Tonight, tofu tikka masala. Tomorrow, workout. Today, coffee.