Anti-Social

One thing about living in a small town is that you can never really run away from anyone you know.

Like for example, I walk into KFC one night and there is the girl who does ballroom dancing along with her dad and mum. I purposely tried to ignore seeing them but guess what? They came up to ME instead. Le sigh. The good ole’ days where I’ll walk into a fast food restaurant without having to greet anyone.

Then just the other day, I was walking around an arts exhibition when I met one cardiac rehab class patient and another patient whom I treated for low back pain. Worst case scenario, they remember me like it was yesterday, whereas I don’t even know who they are anymore!

I guess maybe I’m suited more for the busy city life that has everyone ignoring everyone and you live your own life in your little privacy bubble *waves arms around oneself forming privacy bubble*

But honestly, sometimes…its hard to try and maintain the cheery facade whenever you meet someone you know. Wangy being Wangy, everyone heads down to the farmer’s market on Saturday morning. Its the cool thing to do, I think.

Anyway, just heading down there has me avoiding half the stalls because there are people I know there! I know, I know, I really should stop being such a fusspot but man, sometimes, all I wanna do is buy a few organic eggs and go home. Not stop to chat about my grandmother or the latest goings on with my dancing. Meh.

I’m still unable to get the dance videos that I wanted. Sadly. Yeah, I know. I’m being badgered for more pictures on Facebook but I’m struggling to find them.

Today starts day 8 of a 12 day workweek. Honestly. All the new grads who get to sleep in on weekends, enjoy 1 hour lunch breaks, and don’t have to cover three different wards and answer to the hospital’s every whim and fancy.

Talking about whims and fancies, I went for a bike ride yesterday and on the way back, I finally took the oncall cellphone out of my back pocket at about 6.30ish in the arvo.

Oh crap.

1 missed call. 1 new voice message. At fricking 4.30p.m.!

The message didn’t say much. Only this.

Please call extension 8235 as soon as you can please.

This led to general panic, thinking that someone was in horrible respiratory distress two hours ago and had probably carked it because they couldn’t reach me.

So I rang them back on the work cellphone (love how that happens without me paying a single cent haha) and then I get this.

“Oh, there’s this patient with a really swollen arm after a mastectomy. Can you give her an exercise sheet?”

Tooo lan.

For the love of all that is good and mighty and unremarkably ridiculous.

I, however, maintained a professional facade and coolly replied, “Yup. I’m on my way.”

This is soooo going on my time sheet as callback. For deity’s sakes.