I love complaining about my work schedule. It's gotten to the point that my favorite pharmacist at work got me a gift for working this crazy schedule for two months (and still not cracking!).
So the gift she gave me was *cough* a blow up doll *cough*, with a note saying: "With all the time you've spent at work, and not finding a girlfriend, we've decided to buy one for you."
I've never laughed so hard in my life. Definitely a story worth writing from that, and no I will not use it (unless it's for swimming).
Of course the last line in this story was purely in my head. My boss has, on a scale of 1 to 10, a sense of humor in the negatives, plus I need my job to pay ze bills/school/books.
p.s. to anyone interested. Blow up doll for sale, open box (just to laugh at it, and to find out if it was taller than me).
p.p.s. Sadly. It is taller than me.
*picture is originally from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Infinite_monkey_theorem_in_popular_culture
05/01/2014 (Friday)- The Infinite Monkey Theorem Life
“How’s your writing going?” my real life boss asked, as I pored over the Hospital's chemotherapy schedule for the month.
“Not so good,” I replied, wanting to tell him I needed time off from this crazy eight day on- one day off rotation. To write, of course, but also because my laundry has been piling up. Evolving from all the ambient radiation.
“You’ve heard of the Infinite Monkey Theorem, right?” he asked.
“Given enough time, striking keys at random, a monkey can write the complete works of Shakespeare?”
“Is that what you used to make the new schedule?