technician > pharmacy manager.

If you are incompetent, at least have the balls to admit it.
If you are a supervisor, find a way to appreciate your subordinates.
If you are not good at your job, at least find something about your job to be good at.
Everyone makes mistakes. But do not be guilty of the biggest mistake of all...not admitting to your own.

I can type 10 prescriptions faster than you can fill ONE.
I type, pull drugs, and count. All you do is scribble three damn letters on the bottle.
I put up with the miserable, cranky customers; you hide behind the damn counters.
I spend hours on the phone with insurance companies, only to have you claim all the credit from the customers.

You get paid more than 10 times as much as I do...and for what?! Make your registered pharmacist-ass useful.

good thing...

The other day at the drug warehouse, we processed over 340 prescriptions. That is a pretty busy day for a non-Monday. Out of the last 100 prescriptions, about one-fourth of them were for Tamiflu, be it the capsules or the liquid. It was crazy - families would come in with 4 or 5 scripts for the entire family.

Best quote of the year (thus far...): Guess the flu shot didn't work this year. Good thing I didn't get one.

Yeah, right...good thing, dumbass.

shit, it's early.

And that, my friends, is what my alarm clock read this morning, and will read again tomorrow morning. With a co-worker on vacation, and another one on maternity leave, I have had to go to work even earlier than before. It is amazing what a difference 15 minutes makes. To be at work between 4:30 and 4:45 AM (ante meridiem), I leave my apartment around 4:20. Thankfully, I only take around 30 minutes to get ready, and I do not live far away.

What you may not realize is how much planning goes into working at such an early hour. In order to fulfill my Starbucks needs, I purchase my Iced (with no ice) Americano the night before - because the earliest any neighboring store opens is 5:00 AM. A lot of thought goes into meal preparation, as well. In addition to my morning waffles I take to go, I also scramble five eggs the night before (3 full eggs, 2 whites only). Reheating the eggs really is not as distasteful as it sounds. And then there is my 8 o'clock lunch (which if you think about it, 4 hours from the time I get to work...is lunch time). And then there is my noon lunch (because it is only natural to eat some sort of meal at this time of day). Food aside, I must also prepare my clothes for the day. Fortunately, the winters in Texas are bareable, and I only have to defrost my car once in awhile. Defrosting tacks on another 3-5 minutes in the morning.

As the time now reads 11:10 PM, I think it may be wise to start preparing for bed. This, in itself, is a challenge as I am not able to fall asleep before midnight regardless of what time my alarm is set for.

Goodnight room. Goodnight moon.

10 reasons why I work 2 jobs.

I can say to people who bitch about being tired, "Listen here, I have been working since 5 in the fucking morning and am working right now to service your whiney ass."

It is an excuse to spend 75+ dollars a month on Starbucks Coffee. (It used to be 100+ dollars...)

It keeps me out of trouble. (Well, less trouble...)

I am a workaholic. I do not get paid the big bucks; I really do enjoy working.


I have discovered a passion for drugs. (Ask me two years ago, and I would have never thought I would still be in the Rx world...)

I can wake up the next morning and find receipts adding up to a $200 bar tab and be okay with it because I know my next paycheck will cover it.

It keeps me on my feet - helps burn all the calories I consume in food and alcohol.

I can plan trips to Vegas and not feel too guilty about it. (Finally, Vegas in February!)

My full-time job alone does not help support my gluttonous lifestyle. (I am not high maintenance, I just do not hold back when it comes to food...and alcohol...)

It takes up another minute and a half of conversation when catching up with friends at so-called reunions.

worker's compensation.

Being 5'1" is dangerous, especially if you have a job which requires you to continuously reach for items on tall shelves. Inbetween each isle of drugs is a stool of some sort for me and another vertically challenged technician. While reaching for Celexa, which is atop the first isle of drugs, I had to use the assistance of a crate, our makeshift stepping stool.

On a normal day, and with cautious stepping, this crate would suffice and would help me reach the top shelves with no problem whatsoever. Yesterday, however, we were busier than our normal Sunday, and I hastily stepped onto the crate without looking. While reaching for the drug, I felt an inbalance below me and sure enough, the right side of the crate tipped, and I proceeded to fall.

The crate flipped, and I just happened to land right back on it - with my ass, and not my two feet. My right arm knocked the shelves of drugs, and bottles came falling on my head. It was disasterous.

Being the badass (and stubborn) person that I am, I shook it off and continued to work not realizing how badly I had just fallen. Little did I know that the next day I would not be able to sit on a toilet to urinate, let alone sit in a chair for eight hours at work.

Luckily, I did not fall directly on my ass, but rather somewhat to the side. It could have been a lot worse, in that I could have broken or bruised my tailbone. I still wish I could sit comfortably on the toliet though.


Above is a picture of the hand that broke my fall. The bandaid covering up flesh, as the shelf tore away some of my skin. Though you may not be able to see, it is also slightly swollen and turning a lovely shade of purple/green.


And this, my [very close] friends, is my fat, hairy ass. (I apologize for not putting a disclaimer on this entry but I figure only a few people know and visit this page.) All I have to say is...it hurts!

career day.

Career Day was one of those hurray-we-get-to-miss-class days. It was never taken seriously, and I can honestly say I never paid much attention to anything the guest speakers had to say. Today, for the first time, I listened. I listened as I, myself, spoke and as others spoke.

It was quite the strange feeling being on the other side of the presentation. Not only was I walking on new turf, but I was walking on new turf in a new environment. Today, I was given the opportunity to speak to 6th-8th graders at Franklin Middle School in Dallas. Prior to the presentation I thought about what aspects of my job would peak students' interests most. What I failed to realize was that most of these kids were just trying to get through middle school; the thought of college seemed far-fetched.

At a school where over 90% of the student population was comprised of Hispanics and African Americans, you could pretty much assume half of the kids would be lucky to walk across a stage and receive a high school diploma. They needed encouragement; they needed to know that just because they were not amongst the rich and gifted did not mean they would not amount to great things.

Aside from being an insipring experience, speaking to the kids made me appreciate everything around me. I am grateful for this computer in which I am able to type this blog. I am grateful for the selection of clean clothes I have to choose from each morning. I am grateful for a reliable vehicle which takes me to and from work. I am grateful for both of my jobs and all the opportunities I have had. I am grateful for the years of education I received through Plano schools and UT. Though I may not be atop the list of rich and gifted, I will proudly stand amongst the grateful.

Today, I am glad I paid attention.

working with the public.

Whenever I can remember to do so, I like to read the few pharmacy blogs that I frequent. Now before you go off making fun of my choice of recreational reading, let it be known that reading about your own professional really does bring it to a new level of appreciation.

...working with the public tends to be the worst part of our jobs. It can also be argued that its the hardest as well. Ask any pharmacist if their job would be easier or harder if they didn't have to deal with the public, they will gladly tell you that working with the public is a burden.

So, may I suggest anyone trying to build momentum for the socialist movement argue that all jobs working with the public be paid equal. Regardless of your skill or trade, just the act of talking to the public is the single most difficult and least desirable part of any job. The rest is easier and much more pleasant. Thus, all jobs in retail or otherwise work with the public should be paid equally.

Retail pharmacists generally are paid more than their institution/hospital counterparts. Its called combat pay, and its due to having to deal with some dipshit who knows nothing yet insists on yelling at me for no good reason. I just have to sit there and take it. And I can't think of a single good reason that the kid slicing turkey meat at the deli counter has any less dignity or should be expected to take the same verbal abuse. Where is this kid's combat pay?

Word. People who work in front of computers all day have no idea.

i get paid to play.

I am the winner! At least when it comes to interdepartmental challenges.

Every few months we try to have sporting challenges within the department. Basically, an excuse to play on the job. A few months ago we played basketball. I swept the entire competition by winning the free-throw, 3-point, and HORSE competitions. Today, we played volleyball. Surprisingly, I was on the winning team! I made consistent serves and bumped the ball fairly well; I only cost the team a few points but that is just because I am completely useless lined up against the net.

And this is one of the reasons I love my job.

forty schmorty.

Tonight marks the end of my "regular work week." I took a whole seven days off from the pharmacy, partially to retain my sanity and also to experience a 40 hour work week. After seven days, I can officially upload my picture next to the definition of Workaholic.

When I first approached my manager with the notion of taking off a week, I said that I needed some time off so that I did not get burned out. I figured, a week off from the chaos that is the pharmacy would be good for me - I would be able to get some errands run, watch some television, and catch up on rest. Though I was able to achieve all these, I still lacked a sense of accomplishment. By the third day, I was feeling lazy. What the hell was wrong with me? Instead of enjoying my time away from a second job, I was yearning for work.

I have concluded that my life is driven by a sense of urgency and deadlines. When I work 12 hours a day, I know that I only have 12 remaining hours to work with. I am more motivated and manage my time better when there is a lot going on.

In grade school, I kept busy by being involved in a number of clubs and holding officer positions in many of them. In college, in addition to working part-time and being involved with Greek life, I averaged 15-17 hours each semester. I do not know of any other way. 40 hour work weeks are overrated if you ask me.

checkmate.

As much as noone ever wants to outwardly admit it, the working atmosphere is run by politics. Where you rank amongst the leaders determines how much respect you receive. Where you stand in your beliefs determines which direction you advance, or if you advance at all.

The past few months have been a game of chess. A game of chess played by politicians. Pieces moving - some left to right, some diagonally. With new positions opening, I had to play the field strategically. What were my moves? I had none; I stayed put.

I was flattered when asked to apply, but I knew it was not smart to move laterally. I have never played a game of chess in my life, but I am slowly learning the moves. Hopefully, I will one day play a role in mastering the game.

script count: 385.

With Courtney gone, floaters will be regulars in our store the next few weeks...or however long it takes to hire a new assistant pharmacist. As a closer, this impacts me the most because I am forced to spend the latter part of my shift alone with someone unfamiliar with our store. More times than not, it turns out okay but there is always that fear that the evening will be a nightmare.

Tonight was one of the smoothest evenings I have ever experienced. Was it slow? No. It was an average Tuesday with an ending script count of 385. The last few hours consisted of one clerk (until 8 pm), one technician, and one pharmacist. It was perfect - everyone knew their role. I could not have asked for a more organized night, which is an extreme rarity at our store.

I never thought I would admit this, but there are actual times I do enjoy my job. It is almost as if there is a sense of accomplishment at the end of the night. Shh, do not let Dawn know.

Magic Mouthwash - shaken, not stirred.

Prior to working at a pharmacy, I had never heard of Magic Mouthwash. A liquid compound used to treat sore throat? What nonsense. Growing up, I was just told to gargle with warm salt water.

Little did I know, it was actually quite common for someone to be prescribed something that numbs your throat like 'magic.' Shortly after being taught how to compound progesterone suppositories, I was given the recipe for basic Magic Mouthwash. (There are several variations to the mouthwash.)

Viscous Lidocaine
Maalox
Benadryl

Evenly dispensed, the three ingredients are mixed together - shaken until the Lidocaine is all broken up. And then, wa-lah, Magic Mouthwash.

We had so many prescriptions brought in for the mouthwash tonight that I can now make it in my sleep. Maybe the next time we are slow, I will make some to sell on the streets.