Please pass the Vicodin.

Please pass the Vicodin.

Good morning, everyone. I trust your Tuesday’s going ok.

I’ve been up since about 4am. I woke up because I was way too warm. Forty-five minutes later, I decided I wasn’t going back to sleep without a trip to the bathroom. Trip complete, I managed a half-hour of sleep, then woke up before the alarm went off. Making things even more fantastic this morning (can you feel the sarcasm?), I’m going into work early. It’s going to be a long fucking day.

On top of all this happy-crappy, I’m dealing with a lovely toothache. It’s a fucking sad state of affairs when I’m working in healthcare and can’t a) get my busted tooth taken care of, and b) I’m buying fish antibiotics online to treat this shit until the legal bullshit is done with. I swear, sometimes there’s a very fine line between tolerating the pain and thinking Tom Hanks’s method of performing oral surgery with an ice skate in “Castaway” is a good idea.

Obviously, between the lack of sleep and a throbbing pain that has me popping pills like some of my patients, I’m going to be a joy to be with today.

Bring on the coffee. And ibuprofen.

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