it’s like every time I think I’m doing great, the universe points out otherwise

Today brings the revelation that a lot of my work is being duplicated. Yeah verily, I send out all these letter to patients who have not turned up for appointments, asking them to come in for a new one and asking the clinic team to make one for them… and it turns out all these months the clinic team have been doing all this too (not to mention, making the actual appointments). D’oh.

Damn irritating it was that this news came in right after I spent an hour writing all the did-not-attend letters from yesterday’s clinic.

So I felt really dumb . But wait; me and my Cellmate came into this job straight from nothing and were expected to just pick it up. Which we are still doing. And it wasn’t even just me – nobody in the department knew this was being done!

So I wrote a big letter to everyone informing them, too. A step above and beyond in being helpful, and no doubt I will be Righteously Smote for it (because that happens every damn time I go above and beyond to be helpful). I told my Cellmate to keep an eye out for that happening so I could be proved right, if nothing else.

However, on reflection, the wonder isn’t that the system doesn’t work, but that it works as well as it does – and that’s purely down to people saying to themselves, No! I shall fix that! We are boss-less again, were boss-less for nine months of last year and when we did have a boss she was a stick in the spokes as often as not. This place runs because we make it run, even though we be plebs.

Maybe I underestimated the importance of things I do every day.

And buoyed by this sentiment, I printed off my first ever homework assignment for this course (woo!) walked home and set to. Just fire through the three whole questions, get the flat nice and sparkly, then I shall crack on with Sums on Energy, which looks rather exciting, and maybe decorate the tree. Look, I have to take my fun where I can afford it, okay?

And also where I can’t – it is shopping for cut-price office lunches time, so I picked up a cheapish, i.e. affordable to others, bottle of something warming and tasty to look forward to when the assignment was done.

With a sentiment like that, I should have expected what came next. One minute I was firing merrily through question one, the next I realised all my answers were about a hundred times the size they should be. Backwards and forwards over it, I went, with no joy. This left me in much less of a mood to clean the flat, which I hate doing when it’s dark out anyway, and as for the tree: forget it. Hell, it’s gonna sit in the lounge where I don’t usually go, and I’m not expecting any company over the Christmas season, so it will be forlorn in there just as much as it would in its box under the bed.

I opened the tasty warming bottle of port anyway, just in case some muses came out to help, but inspiration still failed to arrive. Bah humbug.

Okay, so not many folks would be looking forward to a Friday night of Sums! (and cleaning) at the best of times, but you know what’s worse? A Friday night of failing at both!


About beshemoth

Mainly making art, making wine, writing and gardening. Having a life only as the above allows.
This entry was posted in please don't fire me, the fear of all sums. Bookmark the permalink.

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