Ok, universe. I submitted my timecard for this past friday-thursday, which means that this whole recent "let's rain hellfire on marit" thing that you've got going on? Is done. done, over, no more, we're going to have a good day tomorrow, yeah?
otherwise, I will not be held responsible for my actions.
(it's a tossup between screaming murderous rampage and rocking in the corner sucking my thumb.)
Monday: everything goes OK until we get a call for pickup an hour and 45 minutes before we're supposed to go off duty. Our station's in Richmond. pickup was in Vallejo. dropoff was in Sonoma. ookaaay...we can almost make that. (my thought? dispatch's sense of scale is a leetle broken.) also? dispatch neglected to inform us that I was going to be spending 45 minutes in the back with a very annoyed, very...vocal patient. get back to the station 2 hours later than we should have.
Tuesday: marit forgets to set her alarm back to the 0900 start from the 1000 start from yesterday. bother. get to work, change, stick contacts in eyes, walk out. hmm...no partner. call dispatch. who's on first, what's on second, I don't know THIRD BASE ensues. Marit's partner is now station manager, who is training crews and will return later. kay. station manager returns. station manager tells marit that shift has been cancelled and marit should go home. Marit's first thought: yay, now I can do the chores and clean the freakin' fish tank like I've been meaning to. Marit's second thought: waitaminnit. I just got screwed out of 6 hours of work through no fault of my own. Marit's third thought: dammit.
Wednesday: is hereby renamed "aaaawwwkwaaaaaard" day. you can insert your own image of Johnny making the sign for awkward.
Thursday: can I indulge in some internet-speak? omfgwtfbbq. srsly. o.O -_- ... ok, done. shift starts 0815. we have the 'special' radio that gets everyone else's pages, and almost none of our own. case in point? we're posted up in berkeley, 1100 rolls around, and dispatch clicks in and says "uh...you guys on scene yet?" um, let me think. NO. we look at the radio. no page. we'd talked to dispatch around 1000 and they'd said nothing pending. well, apparently we'd been given a call with a 1100 pickup. (and dispatch apparently decided that they'd wait until we were supposed to be on scene before calling to check in, as opposed to, y'know, calling in 15 minutes before to say "hey guys, you en route to your 1100 yet?" so that we could have, oh, say, gotten to the call on time?!) (and then they called us -twice- with our ETA. yo. dispatch. I'm two fucking blocks away, when I'm on scene, I will call you that I am on scene. do. not. ask. me. every. five. minutes.) I know, I know, if I am nice to dispatch, dispatch will be nice to me. mutter mutter they started it mutter. but the patient is very nice and we move on to our next call, which went so wrong that I have blocked it from my memory and rewritten it forcibly with vanilla vodka. (just a shot, and I poured it into my coffee after I got home, don't worry.) I also can't really make it vague enough to satisfy hippa soooo there ya go. It was......bad. not the patient, who was also very nice, and about the only good thing about that whole...what was I talking about?
huh? oo, shiny....
Anyway. Tomorrow = new day, new payroll week, thus I implore you, o universe...throw me a bone, here.
Also, I got a catalog today from the Lindblad national geographic cruise thing people. And this?
Oh. My. God. although I want my grandpa as tour guide again. just look at it. waaaaaaant. oh, to have thirty thousand dollars to spare. if I had 30,000 $...I would sigh wistfully at that map and wish I had another 30,000 $.
The kittens are being ridiculously cute. This probably means they've found a skein of silk laceweight and have turned it into amigurumi hair.
Neil Patrick Harris is on Craig Ferguson every night this week for Magic Week. I love him.