2007/11/03 00:12
Ah, Crap
I just lost at NaBloPoMo.
In my defense, my Friday did not turn out the way I expected. It was supposed to be an easy day full of relaxing uh ... relaxation with my wife and daughter; short Avery's doctor's appointment, we were going to go out and have fun and be a family.
(Oh, quick warning: This post could devolve from my usual style into LiveJournal-esque whining. But what the hell, maybe someone will actually read it and care.)
When did it go south? Seven in the damn morning. That's when the phone rang and Sed informed me that she had to cover a 24-hour call for one of her co-workers. So instead of getting out of work at noon, she'd be there until nine the following morning. As you can imagine, losing one-third of our party (who just happens to be the food supply for another third) put a crimp in our day's plans.
If you aren't keeping count, Sed did three days of call last weekend covering for the fact that two-thirds of her class was in Puerto Rico. Including yesterday (and the nine hours she's covering tomorrow!) she's been on four weekends in a row. She's done more call than anybody else this year so far. So why Sed? Because of six classmates, three were still out of town, one is at hourly capacity working the night shift, and the remaining not-my-wife doctor decided to be a total tool.
"I'd switch with you," she told Sed, meaning that Sed could work today rather than Friday and Sunday, "but my husband's birthday was Tuesday, and we're celebrating it today. And I'd cover you this afternoon so you could go to your daughter's appointment, but I have to go pick up the catering trays and the cake and stuff."
Thanks, tool! Message loud and clear: Your cake is more important than my daughter.
So I took Avery to her appointment by myself. I dealt with the aftermath of what are purportedly the worst vaccinations in a child's life. I attempted to soothe her through the ensuing fever and general pain by myself, without any lactating breasts. I forgot to ask the questions Sed wanted to ask. I spent an hour running around downtown looking for milk storage bags that don't exist, since Sed had only brought enough bottles to pump one time assuming she'd be at work for six hours. And now my plans for today are shot, because I have to be here for Avery while Sed gets her first sleep since Thursday night. All because some jackhole couldn't possibly celebrate a thirty-five-year-old's birthday if it's not the weekend.
Not that I am bitter.
At least I have my computer back. I can justify ranting when it doesn't take an hour to type the thing.
In my defense, my Friday did not turn out the way I expected. It was supposed to be an easy day full of relaxing uh ... relaxation with my wife and daughter; short Avery's doctor's appointment, we were going to go out and have fun and be a family.
(Oh, quick warning: This post could devolve from my usual style into LiveJournal-esque whining. But what the hell, maybe someone will actually read it and care.)
When did it go south? Seven in the damn morning. That's when the phone rang and Sed informed me that she had to cover a 24-hour call for one of her co-workers. So instead of getting out of work at noon, she'd be there until nine the following morning. As you can imagine, losing one-third of our party (who just happens to be the food supply for another third) put a crimp in our day's plans.
If you aren't keeping count, Sed did three days of call last weekend covering for the fact that two-thirds of her class was in Puerto Rico. Including yesterday (and the nine hours she's covering tomorrow!) she's been on four weekends in a row. She's done more call than anybody else this year so far. So why Sed? Because of six classmates, three were still out of town, one is at hourly capacity working the night shift, and the remaining not-my-wife doctor decided to be a total tool.
"I'd switch with you," she told Sed, meaning that Sed could work today rather than Friday and Sunday, "but my husband's birthday was Tuesday, and we're celebrating it today. And I'd cover you this afternoon so you could go to your daughter's appointment, but I have to go pick up the catering trays and the cake and stuff."
Thanks, tool! Message loud and clear: Your cake is more important than my daughter.
So I took Avery to her appointment by myself. I dealt with the aftermath of what are purportedly the worst vaccinations in a child's life. I attempted to soothe her through the ensuing fever and general pain by myself, without any lactating breasts. I forgot to ask the questions Sed wanted to ask. I spent an hour running around downtown looking for milk storage bags that don't exist, since Sed had only brought enough bottles to pump one time assuming she'd be at work for six hours. And now my plans for today are shot, because I have to be here for Avery while Sed gets her first sleep since Thursday night. All because some jackhole couldn't possibly celebrate a thirty-five-year-old's birthday if it's not the weekend.
Not that I am bitter.
At least I have my computer back. I can justify ranting when it doesn't take an hour to type the thing.
Dude. The guy is 35 years old. It's not like he's a 7 year old child that's going to throw a tantrum if he doesn't get his precious cake. You know what else? If you call Cake and Catering Tray Express and tell them you have an emergency and have to be at the hospital until 9 the next morning, they'll probably hold them for you with no problem. Tool.
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