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~*~ the here and now. ~*~ the done and gone. ~*~ who am i? ~*~ find more like me ~*~
say something to me. ~*~ what they've said about me. ~*~ feel left out? ~*~ get pretty. ~*~

feeling better.
2006-01-04, 12:56 a.m.

current mood: better than before.

current song: working overtime by new order. it's new and tasty.

who's that over there?
looks like he don't care
almost lost his mind
working too much overtime

gotta get out every night
city gates are open wide
gotta get away from here
take that car and push that gear

he don't need no one
he's a rising sun
he won't shed no tears
got no time to break down here - hey

he going nowhere fast
just a piece of dirty trash
all alone
by himself
he don't need nobody else

walking down the street
so much going on
people everywhere
look at him but they don't care

see that world out there?
make it go away
you can't change his mind
too much working overtime
hey, overtime, overtime

he crossed that picket line
in trouble all the time
where did it all go wrong?
house music all night long

all those girls out there
looking for the one
do they really care?
could they just be having fun?

he did all he could
tried to get it right
somewhere he went wrong
too much working overtime
hey, overtime, overtime

i'm feeling better today. i'm sorry if i flipped anyone out with my minor bout of depression. i swear, my deamons have been weight training; when they're around to wrestle, they kick my ass.

at any rate, today wasn't so bad, except for the fact that i'm a total fucking n00b and i kept messing up little shit and looking like an ass. but it's ok, it's all stuff i'll get the hang of with time. you know, like unhooking the o2 from the truck before trying to pull the cot out, or asking the stupid nurses at the death farm for a face sheet when they haven't given you one. i'm sure billing will have a heart attack when they actually have to do some work tomorrow. this is me, feeling pity.

ok, so now that the pity party is over, i'll go on.

yeah, so, i think that i can handle this. it was just that one patient i had last night who was a transfer from luke's down to some death farm in ottawa. he was ancient: freaking methusela was in the back of my rig. 94, i think. dnr cc. wicked bad pneumonia cough. he's going within the week, i'm sure of it. i just didn't want him to go in my rig. that's no fun, no fun at all...i'm sure that i would have freaked out seeing as there would be absloutely nothing that i could have done except assist respirations until he stopped breathing on his own, and then, you know - watch him die. i tell you what, i'm not fucking croaking in some metal box on wheels with embittered medcrap employees hovering over me. flaming car crash. call the coroner - she's dead on scene. in fact, with my next check i might in fact go get dnr tatooed on my chest. maybe i'll even get it in that fancy lettering that all the gangstaz get their babies' mommas' names in. it'll be hot, don't you think?

so, unit 12 esta no mas, and eric and i are the new 17. and we get sent out of town at the end of our shift every day. it's not so bad if we're going to get off on time (like today) but totally blew when we got off an hour late (like yesterday). i think that dispatch and their 5-year-old-mr-plus-add-brains forgot that we get off at 7 now, and not 8 like eric was. whatever, don't care. need the money, and being able to take our sweet time getting home is nice. if anyone who works with us has noticed, unit 17 has been taking a lot more runs and playing a lot less radio games - yeah, that's us. no need to thank us for going to get all the regulars to/from dialysis. i assure you that we (and by we i mean i) love taking nothing but pick up/drop off mundane runs. i'm being completely serious - it means that i get to practice writing reports on easy runs, and i get used to how everything works without worrying about screwing up with the patient so much. it also means that i get to do what i was born to do, which is take blood pressures and even maybe break out the band-aids. dick would be so proud.

speaking of dicks, i found out where the letcherous old substitute teacher who tried to get in my pants when i was 15 works now. he's at the muo dialysis clinic. i'm 99.999% sure it was him - i can only pray he didn't recognize me. i don't really want to talk to him about the kid he fathered with a girl i graduated with. oh, yeah ladies - he's a keeper.

at any rate, in suprisingly eloquent language; i'm out like the fat kid at dodgeball. nighty night, my droogies.

~*~ immediate yesterday. ~*~ divination. ~*~

~*~ entries from 2002 ~*~ entries from 2003 ~*~ entries from 2004 ~*~ entries from 2005 ~*~ entries from 2006 ~*~ entries from 2007 ~*~ entries from 2008 ~*~ entries from 2009 ~*~


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