Head’s up, disclaimer, warning, etc. Strong language in this post. I am on my soapiest of boxes. I apologize in advance
Gettin’ real fuckin’ sick of being half of a corpsman team where only my half does work. I am 110% donion rings with my coworker skating all the goddamn time because he knows I’ll pick up the slack. I think I’m just going to let him start falling flat on his face and stop covering for him with Doc and the patients and the second classes, because his lazy ass is starting to really… ahem… chap my khakis. Trying to calm down with the swearing.
Here’s the deal. My doc has 20-minute appointment slots. My coworker and I are supposed to rotate – he takes one, I take one, he takes one, and so on – and whoever gets the last patient of the morning doesn’t get the first one of the afternoon. In theory. Over the past week, however, I’ve seen countless patients back to back and seen the last morning and first afternoon patients multiple times, but any time I ask him for help, what do I get? Attitude. I swear to God, the boy throws more shade than an oak tree, and it’s starting to make me really mad.
Today, for the first time, Doc caught on to the shit this boy pulls, and he got mad. I’ve been here for over six months and I have literally never seen Doc mad before. It was kind of a scary sight, to be perfectly honest. I’ve tried my best to be patient and kind and Christ-like and do the right thing with this kid, but I have had it with being… well, a doormat. I’m done. From now on, his bad attitudes and failures and bullshit are going to be taken straight up the chain of command, because I am sick of dealing with him.
And now, the weather.
Okay, I know it’s June, but JFC, Spain. Can you CALM down a little bit? 79 degrees with a real feel of 83 and a completely cloudless sky isn’t quite as terrible in a skater skirt and tank top, but in NWUs? My GOD, it is miserable here. I’m just not a summer person. I’m not. And everyone always says, “You were born in August, you’re a summer baby, you should love summer…”
NO. I. Hate. Summer. Every other season is wonderful, because when you’re cold, you just throw on a sweater. When you’re hot, you can only take so many layers off before you get arrested for indecent exposure don’t ask me how I know that!
But, in happier news, I’m getting back into pop punk and it’s making me a much happier hooman bean. Just in general. I find myself humming “Thanks For the Ride” by The Wonder Years while I’m typing my notes and charting at work and I keep accidentally-on-purpose quoting Fall Out Boy at people and I’m feeling the overwhelming urge to buy a new pair of Vans. I just wanna go to a show and thrash a little bit. I am feeling an increasing sense of nostalgia for young twenty-something me, who was so optimistic and independent and okay with being alone and… I dunno, just happy, I guess.
This post wound up being super depressing, and I promise that was completely unintentional. I think not having my best friend anymore has really taken a lot out of me. Sometimes I feel like the second the uniform goes on, I go from being a person to a faceless number, and I really resent that about the Navy. I know everyone has a lot to keep track of, but still.
Welp. Until next time, stay frosty, nerds.