The rain has finally stopped for a day and we’ve got a nice, bright, sunshiny day here in Coventry. Eddie is complaining about how I won’t kiss him because his mouth smells like tuna from his lunch. Chaucer is sleeping somewhere, and Pickle is in her cage, curled up into a little cinnamon-bun shaped ball of fur. Everything is unpacked, and I’ve been slowly going through my crafting pile to get rid of things that I don’t need or won’t ever use.

We’re getting used to living here; it’s a quiet neighborhood, and the only excitement we’ve had lately is a squirrel falling from the roof, hitting our A/C, and landing in our wind chimes. And I slept through that. Even the loud motorcycles across the street have left I’ve started crocheting a bit again, this time an afghan for us, mostly while Eddie and I make our way through the 1st season of X-Files on DVD.

Last week was busy at work. I was the beginning of the month, meaning that we were filling pretty much nothing but heart meds and birth control, with the occasional pain killers thrown in here and there. The company is running a promotion right now where people can get up to $120 in gift cards if they transfer their meds from another pharmacy to us, so we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place at times. On one hand, we’re getting it drilled into our heads that they lost a lot of business during the merge/takeover last year, so they want all the business that they can get. On the other hand, this type of promotion attracts more of the type of people that no pharmacy wants: the ones who go from store to store, filling things at several different places at a time depending on who will fall for whatever line of bullshit they’re trying to use this week and who has the better promotional offer for prescription transfers.

We were talking about how cynical the job makes you, and how little faith we have in humanity after working there. I mean, we’ve got to deal with the fact that we need to treat every patient as though they are either a complete imbecile or junky. We need to specify that suppositories are to be unwrapped and are to be shoved up their asses, not swallowed. Oral antibiotics are to be swallowed, not applied to the ear with the infection. When a person comes in with a prescription and says, “I’m paying cash,” we immediately jump to the conclusion that they are one of the sketchy variety and assume that they have insurance and do everything possible to bill things out properly, including calling to the nearby chains to check them out.

Naturally, this makes everyone hate us, except for the little old ladies who think we’re wonderful.

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