The motivation, it is just gone. And Hellday is back! With Dr Anonymous still AWOL, only one registrar, and a nightmare eternal loop of phonecalls and emails being made again and again about the same damn things because I explain slowly and patiently that I cannot do That just yet because I don’t have the information/ the consultant is god-knows-where and nobody knows when he is due back/ I am waiting on the casenotes…
and they don’t understand until I’ve said three times that I will do it just as soon as I have the info/ casenotes/ grab some hapless registrar and force them to sit down and deal with it. Then they say, as if struck by a sudden brainwave, When you get the casenotes/ info/ a registrar, maybe you could deal with it then?
*Beshemoth smacks her head off the phone and the phone off the desk and makes to lob the whole damn computer out the window and stomp off home. Then remembers you only get away with that at Consultant level.*
Today, my Colleague I Suspect Is Up To Something came in to rant for twenty minutes about Previous People Who Have Crossed Her And Then One Died Of Cancer, So There, And She Didn’t Care, So There, But She Didn’t Gloat, For She Is A Good Person. I think I may have broken my keyboard typing furiously so as not to say anything that would prove… unhelpful in the long run.
(Yeah, you know what, matey? I had a horror of a boss once, had gone through seven secretaries in four years – and the first, who had worked for his predecessor for over a decade, quit stone-cold within two months of his taking over. He held the threat of Sudden Firing over me like a cat holding a paw over a mouse, until suddenly it transpired he had the Big C. A very manageable one, fortunately, but still a colossal fright. And HR suddenly decided as lucky seventh secretary, I could leave for France and say he’d bullied me into it, which was kinda true, and he’d get fired. With two small children and a stay-at-home wife and a massive dose of fear of his own mortality. What was I to do?
Put the boot in! said everyone. Now you are in his shoes! Yeah. I swear an oath they will never fit. I did some research on his condition, found a cheering prognosis and the news that pomegranate juice helps (placebo or not), so brought him the results of my research and a big carton of it. Half an hour and about two quid, and it was worth everything to see the look on his face. He was even nice for, ooh, two whole weeks. Still. That’s how you win. Well, in my world. Which might explain why I will never come out on top.)
However, despite holding my tongue, battering the keyboard and keeping me head down, I barely dented the piles of Things To Be Done. Two consultants, and the nurse-led clinics, when all around me have one each? I should cocoa!
When I got in from all that, I realised just how bloody knackered I am. And that the glands in my throat really hurt, (and have probably done so for quite some time but obviously I just haven’t been paying attention). Ah. Feckin’ glandular fever relapse, innit, oh what a shock that is.
I suppose, I have indeed been hard at it since I got the cold in October, but truly, I haven’t been anywhere near fightclub, it doesn’t feel like I’ve been hard at it! Well, I suppose there was a whole day a week of overtime and the trip to Stuttgart was quite tiring and what with one thing and another there has been rather a lot of Fraught With Suspense! Witness, the change of job description, the Leaving of the Flatmate, the Breaking of Everything Expensive as a consequence, the Will The College Ever Get Round To Putting A Sodding Rubber Stamp To My Funding Application, It Has Been Over A Month Now? And I seem to have done nothing but move furniture and scrub carpet edges in what remains of my spare time, but… it’s not exactly hardcore!
Still, I looked at the dishes and I looked at the demi-johns and I said to myself, Screw it! and had dinner and went straight to bed. At half past five in the evening.
Granted, I did get up when the phone rang, and it was Cake about Saturday and she wants to bring a mate I haven’t seen in an absolute age, so that was nice. But afterwards, I went back to bed. Ten hours’ shut-eye beckons, and I suspect even that will not be enough!