Just another day at the office

So to speak.
Go see Dr Nayyar to drop some stuff off. One of the very appreciative docs around. I have no issue going out of my way for her. Back home since I was feelin' like poo in a handbag. A few emails to the MASS list prolly made me public enemy #1. I just wanted a simple answer.
Lunch at York clinic where the lunch is a necessary evil. I would love to find the first drug rep who took lunch into an office, and beat the everlovin' bejeezus out of him/her. First I make and return some few phone calls from colleagues, which put me in an absolutely pissy mood. Someone in Indy has their head so far up their ass that they can see daylight. More reps are coming. Just when I had to deal with the BS of overlaps being where they should not be. Three people doing the job that I did just one year ago. Now another comes into the mix. AAAARRRGGGHHHH!
There are days where I am truly embarassed, such as yesterday listening to someone's day and how hard it was. All the while knowing I did 1% of the good this person did. I can hardly deal with this shit anymore. I have forgotten more info about mental health disorders than I probably presently know.
I did the lunch, spartan attendance puts me in yet a fowler mood. One decent discussion, then I end up leaving early after one doc said he will be back to see me in 30 minutes or so.
Get to the car and drive home. At least a welcome text shines a little light. Get home and pack up to try an easy ride, since I am a bit sick. Next thing I know I am having some sort of cathartic experience it seems, underdressed, sick and feeling great. Legs are just tickin'. A little presure on the pedals, no problem. Big pressure on the pedals, no problem. The shit is easy today. On top of the gears, all is well. I feel the phone buzz in my jersey. Ahhh, ride and text time. Nice little conversation. Legs are now feeling great. Freaky shit brutha.
Whip up a nice dinner, text some more, some bad news about Grammy, a good chat with Ferg and some Tequila and hot tub to relax. Another one in the books.
I hope what few MABSers that will be in attendance at the MACQuet can put me in a good mood tomorrow.
Everytime I here some band's song on a TV commercial I wonder when it was they actually sold their soul for the almighty dollar. Then I look back at my work day and try to figure out when it was that I sold my soul for the almighty dollar.
I get more mental stimulation emailing philosphical healthcare positions with Spanky & May Hay, then with my work.
I wonder if people realize how much I actually care?
I know the good Colonel is clueless.