Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fuck fuckity fuck-fuck-fuck
Fucking fucker fuck
That's really all there is to say.
The whole day was like this, actually. From the time I got harassed by the stupid rent-a-cop for coming in the wrong door this morning to the pager that wouldn't die to the electronic chart that just crapped out on me with two notes left to write.
It's just one of those days you have to hand it over to the FUBAR gods. And write a little haiku with all the eloquence and verbal prowess I have left in me.
Om....
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3 comments:
Lol, kate, this post was brilliant. You can really make readers laugh and cry. I loved the "om" at the end.
Works for me.
I spent most of last night in the ER next to a Bipolar woman and kept thinking that I wished you were there to take care of her, before she launched me into my own panic attack.
Tell it sister! I had an evening like that last nite---thankfully it was short.
Hang in there
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