THE GRIND

I’ve been sick since last Wednesday, I’m at the point where ripping my nose off so I can breathe is a viable option.

My life has slowed down since I last wrote here. I was the best man at my friend’s wedding and was reunited with someone I thought I might never see again, ever. The week following the wedding was a rollercoaster ride, leading up to Easter weekend, when my mom stayed at my place and cooked 90% of the food on Sunday.

Now things are quiet.

Too quiet.

My life is returning to normal, the humdrum everyday back and forth that drives people into the grave. I realize I haven’t actually written anything in a long time, and I have no idea what I should write about, even here. But I have to write something, so here I am, typing away for no reason.

Everyday I’m forced to work, the more I realize how much I hate my job. And that’s strange because I truly saw myself enjoying what I do now, but I don’t. Part of it is the people. I can’t stand pimps and whores to “the grind”. The people who do what they do and that’s all they’ll ever do. You can tell who they are, they’re the people who you know didn’t go to college to become a secretary or a clinical researcher. No, they needed money, got the gig, and never moved beyond it. They’re the ones who cling to their desk and fight for position to prove themselves the better employee. Never realizing that no one gives a shit how much work they do, not even their bosses, and if they died tomorrow, the janitor could replace them and the world will continue spinning.

I dread becoming one of those people and have come pretty damn close, but I haven’t been brainwashed yet and I don’t plan on being any time soon. Still, I’m forced to work and listen to them five days a week, and when you’re sick, it’s particularly annoying. Especially when they play the favoritism game, God I hate that shit. Okay, I’m sick and my coworkers know it. But today another coworker shows up sick. Now, I’m a big boy, don’t need someone crying over me, just leave me the fuck alone, right. But this chick (it’s always a woman), every time I sniff, she sniffs. And I had to listen to everyone around her talk about how sick she was, and get this, she even gave me some subtle digs because I came to work and “exposed” everyone, so she went home early so she didn’t “spread her germs” – fucking bitch.

This same woman talks shit behind several coworker’s backs, and I know she’s doing it to me too, making my working environment a pain in the ass because every time I leave the office, I have to wonder if she’s talking about me and how I came in late, stink, or whatever. And back and forth it goes, from Monday to Friday, her and another coworker talking for hours about policy and procedure like the secret of life is hidden in our manuals.

This other coworker, he’s a trip. He sits and comments, but does nothing and THAT drives me crazy. The opinions he offers are just to instigate for his own personal experiment on how people think or react. He’s forever giving his views on how our office should be run, but does nothing to assume responsibility and power to see that things are finally done right. This hesitancy negates any view he has and makes listening to him a big waste of time. But what can I do, he’s senior man and I can either listen to him, or cut him off, walk away, and that would lead to yet another discussion that could go somewhere it shouldn’t.

And I hate that – I hate office politics. I hate pretending that everything is cool when it’s not. I hate faking interest in a nowhere conversation, or having to spend valuable time coming up with a good excuse why I don’t want to participate in the staff luncheon or someone’s birthday, when I should be able to simply say “NO”.

I guess I became disenfranchised with my work once I realized it means nothing. When I accepted the position, I was stoked that I was part of a system that would cure cancer someday. We were “working towards a better tomorrow”…but I learned different after a few team meetings. It wasn’t clear, nothing obvious, no one outwardly said that they didn’t give a shit, but you could smell it in the air. You could hear it in the tones of their voices and the doctors’ behavior. They didn’t give a damn about the studies because they were futile. No one is trying to cure cancer. Control it maybe, but not cure it, and my interest went down from there. What’s the fucking point after that? Every job should have a point, even if you’re just a file clerk, the point is getting patient’s chart. But if you work on cancer studies, therapeutic protocols, what’s the point of your professional existence, if it’s not finding a cure?

So what do I do?

Pretty much record and document reactions to different drugs we know won’t cure cancer for the betterment of the patients, so they can live with their disease, not without it. One study spawns another, over and over again. This study analyzes the results of another study, back and forth. It’s fucking boring as hell and has no point. At least, none I can see. I know there’s a system to it all, but I have no interest in it. Frankly, I’d rather be a garbage man. I think picking up people’s trash would be more exciting than what I’m doing now.

Going back to what I mentioned before, work would be bearable if I were surrounded by people who were like me in some small way. But they’re not, not at all. Oh, two of them do have tats, but they’re forty-something (at least) and got them to be “cool for a day” and swore not to get another because “they hurt too much”. Two small ass ankle tats, trying to relive their fucking youth. That’s like a punker going to mass for bread and wine because he’s hungry – makes me fucking mad. These same two women go on and on about the men at my job, scoping out who’s available and it drives me nuts.

Hey, I check out chicks at my job, but I don’t broadcast it, and that’s what’s annoying about it. That’s what’s annoying about my job period, most of the women here are single and looking for men like it’s a bar or something. Sometimes it’s cool, I see some scandalous outfits when I walk through the halls, but when I’m not “pussy blind” the desperation is sickening, even for me. When I was at my worst, and I mean pretty fucking low, I never scammed at work. Never even tried.

I don’t know, I guess if I worked at Tower Records I’d feel different. But here, in a hospital, it just feels wrong. The whole place feels wrong. Like we’re lying to the public, people come here thinking one thing, but it’s totally different. The people are different, the place is different, everything is different…I’m different.

I’ve just been here too long, more than five years now, and I need a change. No one should work at a hospital unless it's a doctor, and even they are getting away from them. Most of the docs I see have private offices far away from the hospital they’re associated with, and I can understand why.

I need a new job…but what? And how long will I keep bouncing around until my dream is a reality?

I don’t know…just file this under “Dark Times” and I’ll see you when I’m feeling a little less miserable.

Peace.

JPG.