[this is a rant, because i’m not very happy]
Holy crap, I’m sick.
I wandered around Walgreens for fifteen minutes because, in spite of their proclamation to open at 7 AM, the pharmacist doesn’t get in until 9; this essentially makes their establishment an impotent excuse for a pharmacy and more into a glorified convenience store, albeit, one I can’t even gas up my truck at. All in all, not very convenient. What more, the state of Texas has a restriction on buying cold medicine. I’m not sure how common this is in other states, but what it amounts to is me, in the middle of coughing up a lung and dripping an obscene amount of snot out of my nose, having to explain that I don’t want to make meth out of Tylenol. I just want to breathe again, if that’s alright. After 5 minutes of them running my ID through a system to make sure I haven’t been hording decongestants, I can sign away my life and finally get “over-the-counter” cold medicine. My sinuses rejoice.
One redeeming factor out of this was that some guy named Shaun was working a cash register and could double for Simon Pegg. I didn’t interact with him personally, though I thought I heard him speak with a distinct British accent. I hope my mind wasn’t making things up, because the above makes everything worthwhile, although my psyche could possibly be trying to preserve my well being by using humor, however delusional it is. This is all after I’ve worked an overnight shift and essentially was held hostage twenty minutes after I was supposed to have left due to the oncoming supervisor wanting to “set limits with” (ie - more than likely piss off) a particularly deranged and violent patient and being hesitant to do so without extra staff to back her up. I think my rallying cry of “hurry up and clock out before something happens” to all of my staff while running to the time clock might have came across as unsupportive of her decision to do so.
The tissues at work are completely sub-par. My nose feels like ground up hamburger.
Oh here’s another thing. Girls who don’t wear bras out in public are tacky. I don’t care if it’s 8 AM on a Saturday morning and you just ran up to the store for your emergency supply of chips and Bloody Mary mix. It’s 30 degrees outside. Cover up your mammaries.
Whatever. I’m done. It’s time to go play Dead Rising. I have a lot of rage this morning and the Simon Pegg look-alike did it for me as far as wanting to bash some undead heads in.
