A Curse Upon You

When I go to work on the weekends I hope and pray for a slow evening so that I can read blogs. There are some blogs that my slow-ass-still-need-a-new-one computer just can't handle. Why I don't know, but for some reason the old girl just shuts down completely. Which is a shame, because I love both of those blogs.

So anyway, I look forward to getting into work and turning on the computer when it slows down. These are normally the first two blogs I read and over the course of my 2 days of nonwork, I hope to get through my blog roll. (Which reminds me I totally need to update my blogroll, I keep losing the all the little pieces of paper with urls on them.) And even comment sometimes, because I have become the blogosphere's shittiest commentor. I'm lucky a few people are still reading and commenting.

I get to work and it is dead. Love this! Do you know how quickly 8 hours can pass when you have a computer in front of you? I turn on the computer, erase the user name, out in the default one and type in the password.

What the fuck? "User access denied." The other computer said the same thing last week, but I did not worry too much because I always use this computer, my favourite computer with the nice comfy chair.

Excuse me, but do they not realize I have computer related things to do, blogs to read, card designs to look up on Splitcoast, the retired list is out on Stampin' Up. Do you not realize I enjoy being paid to mess about on the internet? $18.29 an hour isn't actually worth doing physical labour for.

I come to find out that my punisher is only a unit clerk. I'm assuming she must have went to higher ups first before she changed all the codes, but I am seriously unhappy and laying all the blame at her feet. She doesn't like us at all. She once took the handsets from the phones away so that we could not use them. Another time, she put a note saying "Porters, do not use the phones." Sometimes we need the phones to call a unit. It's not like I only use the phone to call home. True. Sometimes I call a friend or two as well. Apparently she thinks we have germs. Duh. A hospital is a pretty stupid place to work if you are a germaphobe. Unlike her I am unwilling to wear gloves for 8 hours. I hate the gloves actually, and only wear them when I am dealing with a patient with contact precautions. But I do wash my hands between patients, or a the very least use microsan.

So instead of catching up on blogs this weekend, I cut out 7 stamp sets, wrote out 20 cards, stamped 45 envelopes, addressed some of them and read my new Jodi Picoult novel, Perfect Match. (which I misplaced yesterday...where could I have put it? It was on my sofa the last time I saw it. Help me out here, I am having withdrawals.) I also spent some time cursing this unit clerk, with the wish that her over processed blonde hair will maybe fall out of her head.