Oct 10, 2006 13:54
I swear, my manager changes her mind about what my job's going to be from one day to the next. And Claire doesn't understand why I can't stand the uncertainty here. Jesus.
You'll be doing medical records
You'll be staying here
You'll be doing your old job (What, you mean the job that, in your words, doesn't exist any more??!!)
I don't know what you'll be doing
I've had all four of these answers in the space of three days. I'm not joking.
In other news, it took me an hour and a quarter to walk from work to my parents' house last night (3 miles, maybe a little more, I'm badly out of shape) and between that and running all around the health centre today cleaning (lovely external cleaning audit in two days, did I mention our cleaners quit on Friday?) my feet are killing me and the insides of my boots are actually wet. Lovely. Sure you all wanted to know that.
I miss my gray. And my maltron. I miss people who aren't work people and who aren't either demanding that I clean or protesting in strident tones that cleaning isn't in my job description. Julie-from-downstairs can actually make the word "clean" into two syllables. It's fairly impressive in a way.
work,
claire,
cleaning