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a.) had a superior who irked the almightly livin' fuck out of you with everything he/she said?
b.) had a superior you were smarter than?
c.) had a superior you fantasized about killing?
d.) all of the above
So I work with this doctor. His name is irrelevant. It may as well be MUD for all I fucking care. He's seventy-five years old and basically dust in a labcoat. He can't hear. He can't see. It's obviously time for his wrinkled ass to retire, but NOOOO -- why retire when he can forever roam the pediatric wing and piss me the fuck off?
I am not kidding when I say I'm smarter than this guy. Or, perhaps, he really is smarter than he looks, because I fucking do HIS work along with my own. I have to do all of his calculations, because I can't read his cramped and miniscule handwriting (NOT a Snape reference :P). I have to constantly remind him what the generics to certain medications are. I even had to spell Methylphenidate for him once. His dosing is suspect. I mean, he may as well prescribe Skittles and Kool-Aid for all the good his treatment provides.
He tries to talk to me, and I try and keep my answers as cryptic as possible. Bottom line -- I hate this guy. The only time he ever sees me smiling when we work together is when I'm fantasizing about killing him -- with my bare hands.
Have a story to share?
--P
b.) had a superior you were smarter than?
c.) had a superior you fantasized about killing?
d.) all of the above
So I work with this doctor. His name is irrelevant. It may as well be MUD for all I fucking care. He's seventy-five years old and basically dust in a labcoat. He can't hear. He can't see. It's obviously time for his wrinkled ass to retire, but NOOOO -- why retire when he can forever roam the pediatric wing and piss me the fuck off?
I am not kidding when I say I'm smarter than this guy. Or, perhaps, he really is smarter than he looks, because I fucking do HIS work along with my own. I have to do all of his calculations, because I can't read his cramped and miniscule handwriting (NOT a Snape reference :P). I have to constantly remind him what the generics to certain medications are. I even had to spell Methylphenidate for him once. His dosing is suspect. I mean, he may as well prescribe Skittles and Kool-Aid for all the good his treatment provides.
He tries to talk to me, and I try and keep my answers as cryptic as possible. Bottom line -- I hate this guy. The only time he ever sees me smiling when we work together is when I'm fantasizing about killing him -- with my bare hands.
Have a story to share?
--P
no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 11:48 pm (UTC)It must be high-pitched :P
no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 11:52 pm (UTC)