Bad Habits and Murder Thoughts
Sep. 29th, 2011 01:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thessalianThere will be throttling of people. Oh yes. Yes, there will.
Background: My office is full of notes. FULL of notes. Stacks of notes everywhere. It's not exactly tidy but we haven't got a lot of choice. We try to book them back to medical records but that doesn't happen when we've got consultants who insist that they will need the notes at some hitherto undecided future point and thus no one else is ever allowed to have them, ever. Notes. Stacks of them. EVERYWHERE. I have to try my level best to keep things relatively tidy so that at least we know which are clinic notes and which are a consultant's horde and which we just need to book back to records for our sanity but have just been too busy to do so.
Today I came back from lunch and the mess was horrific. Apparently medical records bods came by and tore everything apart looking for notes ... and of course, didn't think that maybe putting the rest back as they were was too much effort. So I no longer had floor space, the spot in front of the file cabinet that I painstakingly cleared of notes not two days ago is blocked again and I don't know which goes where anymore. Worse yet, one of my consultants came by with a clinic tape. Well, a clinic tape and the associated notes. Which gods forbid he think to keep together in the same fucking place. Seriously; he dropped the envelope with the clinic tape in it on top of a stack of envelopes on my desk designated for the recycling bin, and put the stack of associated notes clear across the room! So I went away for lunch to a tidyish office and a firm knowledge of where everything is, and came back to chaos.
Between that and the absolute disaster that was that same consultant's tape full of ad hoc letters (no notes, no documentation, few hospital numbers, difficult names that he refused to spell and one letter of which he only recorded the first paragraph), I'm left just wanting to scream, cry and hide under my desk until this horror goes the hell away. But it's not going to, so I guess I'm just going to have to sort things out as best I can. Though some of the notes stacking can wait until tomorrow, when I'm wearing better clothes for crawling around under desks and on the floor. I swear, at this stage I'm strongly considering turning up in track suit bottoms and a plain T-shirt. If they bitch about dress code (they never do, but still), I can just point at the notes and explain that this is an exercise in weight-lifting and office clothes are not appropriate.
...But I probably won't do that either. I will slog through today, I will slog through tomorrow and then I will have a too-short weekend that I will only be able to enjoy because at least no one else will be in the office, being let get away with developing bad habits that make my life a living hell.
And I've had the phones today. Is it any wonder I want to messily slaughter EVERYTHING?
Background: My office is full of notes. FULL of notes. Stacks of notes everywhere. It's not exactly tidy but we haven't got a lot of choice. We try to book them back to medical records but that doesn't happen when we've got consultants who insist that they will need the notes at some hitherto undecided future point and thus no one else is ever allowed to have them, ever. Notes. Stacks of them. EVERYWHERE. I have to try my level best to keep things relatively tidy so that at least we know which are clinic notes and which are a consultant's horde and which we just need to book back to records for our sanity but have just been too busy to do so.
Today I came back from lunch and the mess was horrific. Apparently medical records bods came by and tore everything apart looking for notes ... and of course, didn't think that maybe putting the rest back as they were was too much effort. So I no longer had floor space, the spot in front of the file cabinet that I painstakingly cleared of notes not two days ago is blocked again and I don't know which goes where anymore. Worse yet, one of my consultants came by with a clinic tape. Well, a clinic tape and the associated notes. Which gods forbid he think to keep together in the same fucking place. Seriously; he dropped the envelope with the clinic tape in it on top of a stack of envelopes on my desk designated for the recycling bin, and put the stack of associated notes clear across the room! So I went away for lunch to a tidyish office and a firm knowledge of where everything is, and came back to chaos.
Between that and the absolute disaster that was that same consultant's tape full of ad hoc letters (no notes, no documentation, few hospital numbers, difficult names that he refused to spell and one letter of which he only recorded the first paragraph), I'm left just wanting to scream, cry and hide under my desk until this horror goes the hell away. But it's not going to, so I guess I'm just going to have to sort things out as best I can. Though some of the notes stacking can wait until tomorrow, when I'm wearing better clothes for crawling around under desks and on the floor. I swear, at this stage I'm strongly considering turning up in track suit bottoms and a plain T-shirt. If they bitch about dress code (they never do, but still), I can just point at the notes and explain that this is an exercise in weight-lifting and office clothes are not appropriate.
...But I probably won't do that either. I will slog through today, I will slog through tomorrow and then I will have a too-short weekend that I will only be able to enjoy because at least no one else will be in the office, being let get away with developing bad habits that make my life a living hell.
And I've had the phones today. Is it any wonder I want to messily slaughter EVERYTHING?