(no subject)
I really think vet schools should tell their students what kind of hours they can expect as practitioners. Just as a courtesy, ya know.
For example, today:
-Work 10 hour day. Be scheduled into oblivion all morning, have to work through lunch, then sit on your butt most of the afternoon because nobody wanted THOSE appointments.
-Leave pretty close to on time. Get home, walk your own dog, very quickly post the little Spuffy piece you wrote on your mobile phone in between appointments on lj (ok, that's probably just me).
-Yay! Fitness Bootcamp! Do many many drills followed by 35 horrible star jumps. Lose all feeling in your legs.
-Go home. Put leftovers in microwave to reheat. Pick up fork.
-Pager goes off. "'My horse has been colicking allll day!" Spill leftovers all over self as you try to eat them while driving to the farm where the person who couldn't call you while you were doing nothing this afternoon waits.
-It's bad. Really bad. Bad enough that treating the horse is an athletic endeavor (after star jumps, no less. Eat that, MMA guys who show me up at bootcamp!) But they want to give the poor beast the chance to suffer all night. So you do your best and dope it all to hell with pain meds.
-Consider ice cream on the way home even though it's 10 pm and 19 degrees out. It's been that kind of day.
-Skip the ice cream because you're covered in blood and look like an axe murderer. Besides, brewski sounds better.
-Open brewski. Pager. Come kill it now, it's not doing any better. Incidentally, plastic wrap and a rubber band make a fine short-term beer freshness keeper.
Please, God, I just want a shower and my travel coffee mug to grow 3 sizes before I have to do it all over again tomorrow.
For example, today:
-Work 10 hour day. Be scheduled into oblivion all morning, have to work through lunch, then sit on your butt most of the afternoon because nobody wanted THOSE appointments.
-Leave pretty close to on time. Get home, walk your own dog, very quickly post the little Spuffy piece you wrote on your mobile phone in between appointments on lj (ok, that's probably just me).
-Yay! Fitness Bootcamp! Do many many drills followed by 35 horrible star jumps. Lose all feeling in your legs.
-Go home. Put leftovers in microwave to reheat. Pick up fork.
-Pager goes off. "'My horse has been colicking allll day!" Spill leftovers all over self as you try to eat them while driving to the farm where the person who couldn't call you while you were doing nothing this afternoon waits.
-It's bad. Really bad. Bad enough that treating the horse is an athletic endeavor (after star jumps, no less. Eat that, MMA guys who show me up at bootcamp!) But they want to give the poor beast the chance to suffer all night. So you do your best and dope it all to hell with pain meds.
-Consider ice cream on the way home even though it's 10 pm and 19 degrees out. It's been that kind of day.
-Skip the ice cream because you're covered in blood and look like an axe murderer. Besides, brewski sounds better.
-Open brewski. Pager. Come kill it now, it's not doing any better. Incidentally, plastic wrap and a rubber band make a fine short-term beer freshness keeper.
Please, God, I just want a shower and my travel coffee mug to grow 3 sizes before I have to do it all over again tomorrow.