Original Post Date: July 13, 2007
So, apparently, everyone that calls or comes into my work feels it necessary to tell me their life story. Today alone I've heard about a lady going in to have her foot x-rayed, another lady that has a metal plate in a back and one in her neck, and then the best of all...the lady that came in and told me all about her dysfunctional family. Seriously, folks...I've got my own problems. As much as I'd love to sit and listen to yours...I'm only at work for 6 hours and sometimes I have to cram 8 hours worth of work into that time. I understand needing to vent, but SERIOUSLY! I hear more about people's medical problems than I ever really cared to know. Sometimes I wonder if "psychiatrist" is part of the job description for a receptionist. And if I hear one more time "Oh, he's a Pit Bull/Rottweiler/Doberman mix, but he just lays around all day." I'm gonna scream. Not only because I'm not the one who makes the call on whether the pet will be allowed or not, but because I think your dog is programmed to kill me whether you have treated him well or not. Kidding. :)
I'd like to take this moment to say that if you're my friend, I don't mind listening to your problems. But if I didn't know you from Adam and you came in telling me about how you just had your tubes tied and the history with breast feeding, I'm going to be a little wigged out. (That's also based on a true story, by the way.)
And people wonder why I quit this job. And why I went back to it. I wonder about the latter myself...quite often!!!!!
I need a vacation.
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