Tag: school

My Busy Just Got Busier

I find myself apologizing again to my readers for not writing.  First, I accidentally posted something on Sunday when I meant to schedule it for Monday.  Oops, my bad!  Then, Monday was school and then I went in early to the office.  We were busy from the moment I got there to the moment we closed.  The same thing basically happened on Tuesday as well.  It was a little bit crazier though.  We saw a patient from hygiene, and that put us behind by a little, then two patients later was about 25 minutes late and we still saw him (which pissed me off), and then we were behind the rest of the night.

This morning, class was off the walls as people talked about random sh*t, my teacher disappearing when being summoned by my other teacher, and an awards ceremony (that always annoys me and is a waste of time).  Needless to say, not a lot of stuff got done, and now I have a mere two hours to do stuff before I have to go to work at the restaurant this evening.  Ugh!  Too much!  It’s too much!  [Please come back later ——– Mental breakdown imminent ——– Holding ——–]

And on that note, it’s been real!

Don’t Throw the Gauntlet… Smack Em’ with It

So… some pretty stupid people crossed my path over the holidays and at school when I returned.  As per usual, it was equal parts amusing and annoying.  The Wednesday before Christmas wasn’t atrocious, but Friday and Saturday were a little crazy.  There seemed to be quite a few large, walk-in parties.  Nobody could be bothered to pick up the phone and check to see if we had room.

Oh, well!  I went on a wait, which I always start out a little high on just so I can gauge how long people will stay and camp out.  And of course, everybody and their mother (literally) has a problem with that.  It was getting late and I saw many parties walk in and ask for larger tables, or for tables to be pushed together in order to accommodate them.  Sometimes I could do that if the tables were in the same section, but I hated confusing the servers if the tables weren’t together.  Anyway, I filled up and went on my wait.  Close to 8:00 (and I was still buys), four people walked in: a middle-aged woman, two younger girls, and a younger man.  They asked me for a table and I told them what the wait was.  The middle-aged woman started giving me reasons why they needed a table… something about baking all day and being hungry, yada, yada, yada.  I repeated what the wait was.

Then, one of the girls asked, “What about that table next to you?”  This little table can be a part of my table where I work, but by itself, it’s a little two top.

“That’s a two top,” I said, stating the obvious.  The middle-aged woman then turned her beady eyes on my table.

“Can’t we join that and sit there?  I mean… do you need it?”  I looked down at my little, itty, bitty work station, which was covered in menus, special sheets, seating chart, and wait list.  It was literally covered in things and she wanted me to remove and find a magical place to put my stuff.  I glanced up at her, my face

I’m Exhausted!

I don’t know what it’s been about writing and work and school and life lately.  I feel tired and rushed.  The answer might have something to do with the Christmas (shopping) season arriving, but I think it is also partly because of my hap-hazard existence right now.  I feel so tired very early in the evening and I want to cry at times during the day.  And it’s not even because something’s annoying me.  I’m just… I don’t know!

Although, my eye whatever came back and the eye doctor said it’s not pink eye.  I have bumps under my eyelids from some kind of allergic reaction and that’s what causing my eyes to have that ‘pink eye’ like symptoms.  Am I allergic to waking up?  I could believe that.

My work is tiring me out because the receptionists are quitting and the insurance and billing coordinator is quitting, and they asked me to cover the front desk in the evening, instead of me working in the back with my doctor.  Which pissed me off, but I agreed only until the end of December.  I sent a higher up an email informing them of this fact.  We’ll see if she is ‘offended’ by my standing up for myself, and we’ll see if this gets me in trouble.

I think that’s all coming together to make me more tired, an angry, and just… over it.  What can I do to help myself?

And on that note, it’s been real!

Rise & Sh-! Shut Up!

I’m sure I’m not the only person who is feeling tired this time of year.  Every day when my alarm goes off at 6:00, I yawn, stretch, and try to wake myself up as much as possible.  Once I get out of my bed, it’s easier.

My younger sister jokes that I’m an old lady now because of my self-imposed curfew.  I’m showered and all ready for bed and even climbing into bed a little after 9:00.  But, I stay up till a little after 10:00 playing Temple Run 2 on my Kindle, then reading whatever book catches my fancy from my shelf.  Then, the Melatonin kicks in, the yawns increase, and the sleep mask comes down.

The only days I don’t have to set an alarm (unless I’ve got someplace to be) are Saturdays and Sundays.  I sleep like a dead person and rise whenever I feel like it (but always before 11:00).  However, on the days I do have get up early, I wish instead to be like the puppy above, all cuddly and snug in my bed.  Maybe next week, since it’s a holiday week…

And on that note, it’s been real!

God Save the Teacher (& Me)

It’s been a while since I wrote anything about my class, or what we’ve been doing so far.  At the moment, we’re in our third module, which we will complete officially tomorrow.  It was a little rough; we had a different teacher, but she was a gem, and took pity on us when it came to the work.  And I must thank God for her patience, for the stupid questions did not cease.

There is one girl in my class who has about as much brain between her ears as a politician has a heart in his body.  Nunce.  Every single time she hands in something to be graded, she asks our teacher, “Am I failing?”

Our teacher will say, “Yes, you are… just kidding!”

“Oh, NO!” my fellow student will moan in a sing-song fashion before my teacher can say she’s joking.  And she’s done that since day one of class.  Sometimes twice in the same day.  Finally, last week, I had enough.  My teacher was grading her test, she asked the same question, got the same answer, and proceeded with the same response.

I asked, “Why do ask the same question when you know she’s going to mess with you?”  She got no retort or defense back.  We’ll be staying with this teacher for the next module which begins next week (Thanksgiving week).  Thankfully, the class they are starting out with is one I transferred out of, so I don’t have to make an appearance at all next week.  Yay!  And then I got out of another class and lowered my tuition some more.  Which means when those classes arrive, I can either have extra free time, or work a little more.  Which sometimes, I would rather do than share the same classroom with her.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Swivel, Girl! Swivel!

My chair rolls and swivels.  It’s literally the best.  I can sitting in the operatory, waiting for my doctor, and if the patient doesn’t want to talk, or I don’t want to talk, I swivel and roll.  At the front (when I have the displeasure of working up there), my high-backed chair can spin around so fast, I can make myself dizzy.  At school, I have a little roller stool that I can use when I’m bored/done with everything and am waiting for others to finish.  That and reading on my phone (not going to lie).

Chairs can say something.  The chair that sits in front of this laptop, has been with me for almost ten years.  I remember scraping together quarters, dimes, and nickels in order to pay for it.  It is breaking and peeling and the arms are almost ragged now.  Every piece of knitwear that I have catches on it and pulls.

The chair tells a story.  It has been with me for three novels, a set of short mystery stories, two term papers, a screenwriting class, and now, a new novel.  This chair his swiveled and rolled with me through a lot.  And I will be very sad when the time finally comes to give it up.

And on that note, it’s been real!

I’m Not a Loner; I’m Just Allergic to Stupidity

Most people saw me sitting by myself when I went to my vo-tech in high school.  I was home schooled during the morning, then went to my tech school in the early afternoon.  Of course, I was the only home schooled girl in my class, and all the public school girls brought their drama.  They talked about things that were too much to say in such company.  Needless to say, I was not interested in listening to their unsavory discussions, so I asked my teacher if I could sit off on my own and listen to music on my phone.  I didn’t make a lot of friends with girls in my class.  I was actually friendly with several kids who weren’t in my class, but were in my Skills USA group.  They talked about similar topics with me, and were smarter than my fellow classmates and more polite.

I’ve never been patient with stupid/uncultured people.  My father’s tendencies (which he passed onto me) do not allow for that.  With a few exceptions, I don’t really work with stupid people.  All my siblings are like me; some to lesser extents, but they still have it.  We practice on each other to sharpen our repartee and our sardonic wit.  At my restaurant, I have to deal with stupid customers, not stupid coworkers.  However, when I go to the dentist, I pray that the front desk won’t f*ck up my doctor’s schedule.  If they do, that’s when I pray to God to give me the strength not to kill them, and to protect my IQ level.

The meme that’s above?  I found it while just looking for funny quotes to make me laugh.  I showed it to my younger sister, who is just as ruthless as I am, and she burst out cackling.  Sometimes that’s all it takes to lift my spirit if I’m feeling down.  Laughter is a medicine in and of itself.  Sarcasm is just a specific type of antibiotic for life.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Single, With Jobs (and Parents)

Unlike some people out in the world, I don’t have a lot of time to waste or potter about.  And everybody thinks I do.  I hate it when I’m sitting at home, and it’s my one day off (Sunday), and I hear my dad say, “M/N isn’t doing anything.  Have her do it.”  Um… no.  Emphatically and really and truly no.  Whenever this happens, my mom will come to get me, but she always gets a slightly sarcastic reply.

She’ll tell me my dad wants me to make a salad, and I’ll say, “Oh?  I guess men are physically incapable of making a salad.”  I don’t mean all men when I say this; just my brothers.  They drink beer, smoke cigars, and talk, but are unable to make a salad.  It’s actually quite funny.

Another funny thing that happened to me, but this was several years ago.  We were (all eight of us) sitting and eating dinner, and my dad leaned in between me and one of elder brothers to reach something.  In order to make room for him, I had to tilt my chair to one side.  My brother just stayed where he was.  As my dad was reaching (more over me than him), he said, “Sorry, [my brother’s name].  I’ll get out your way in a second.”  I just started laughing and everyone looked at me like I was crazy.  I apologized, while laughing maniacally, and I explained after my dad left why I had started laughing.  Both my sisters agreed that it was funny.  Nothing against my brothers (really), but the situation was humorous.

As for the jobs, they’re going pretty good.  I finished my second module at school with good grades and my teacher told me I was doing very well.  As for my unofficial internship at my old office, I know that one of my doctors is kind of in need of an assistant.  I offered and she said she would most certainly keep me in mind.  I like helping her and my regular doctor.  Actually, last week, my mentor stepped out of the room and let me help the dentist on my own.  We did a space maintainer, filling, and extraction on a child (who was so good for us), and a silver and white filling on an adult.  I am glad he did that; for it shows the faith he has in me.  However, Friday, I couldn’t go in because I had conjunctivitis, or in lay man’s terms: pink eye.  Yay!  Took my drops and tried to make myself appear as normal as possible.

Then, at the restaurant, my manager called me over and said, “So, you know you have to dress up next Friday?”  I nodded because it’s the Friday before Halloween.  He immediately added, “You have to be Goku.”  If I didn’t have wonderful self-control (sometimes), I would have lost my sh*t.

“Nope, not doing Goku.”

“Why not?  You’ve got a week.”

“Because I’ve only got a week, and I hate Dragon Ball Z.”  Arrow through his heart, anime style.  I’ll just resurrect an old Tekko costume.  It’s cheaper and I already have it; why not in hell use it?!  Anywhoo, that’s my single life with jobs (and parents).  Oh, Al Bundy!  You’re an inspiration to all of us!

And on that note, it’s been real!

The Fault in the Faculty

Today, we have to give five minute demonstrative speeches for our class.  I used to be a member of Toast Masters International, so I’m fine with giving a speech.  However, we’ve got one of the school’s big shots trying to sit in on our speeches today.  She smiles at us whenever she comes across us, but she’ll tell our teacher to dock us points for attendance (we left like ten minutes early, big whoop), and not to give us 100% on our speeches, because it’s impossible for somebody to do that good a job apparently.  I declare!

I’ll have you know, madam, that I am a very good speaker (if I like what I’m yapping about).  Our teacher told us that she said not to give us 100%, we were all affronted, and started planning like little minions.  One girl actually thought we were supposed to have our speeches yesterday, so she had all her supplies.  She gave it already, but the rest of us are going to have to give ours today.  This executive doesn’t know when we’re giving these speeches; just that we’re supposed to do them today.  We’re all evil; we want to sneak them in before she arrives at the school.  That way, when she does stick her head into our classroom, our teacher can tell her we’re already done.

Sorry, lady.  But when you try to tell a teacher to take points off for things, and not to give 100% scores, even though they are rightfully earned, is pathetic.  Thanks, but no thanks!  And I fully intend to wow people today with my speaking.  Like I said, I’m a chatter box if it’s something I enjoy.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Let My Pens Go!

If there is one thing that always ticks me off, it’s when somebody steals my pen(s).  I’m a bit of a pen snob and can’t have just any pens.  I always have to get the Uniball Gel Pens.  They write so smooth and they are like my babies.  However, when I was working more often at the dentist office, people would always take my pens and never return them.  It got to the point where I would reach for my pen holder, and I wouldn’t have anymore pens.  That made me a little ornery.  I started getting more pens and then putting my name on them.  That, or sarcastic ‘don’t take, or else’ phrases on sticky labels on the pens.  This way, even if they did take my pens, I can easily identify them.

But, the pen thieves still strike and take my pens and I have to go hunting for them.  I legitimately have a pen-phobia, but that’s preferred to some other phobias out there.  People sometimes think I’m weird when I walk up to them and say, “Can I please have my pen back?” or “I know you have my pen,” or “You done with that?”  I can go on and on and on.  But, I won’t do that to you.  You guys haven’t stolen my pens… yet.

And on that note, it’s been real!