Neverending story

I posted this pic on my Facebook page recently, only to have people who rarely comment come out of the woodwork with words of encouragement, such as “classic!”, “I love it!” and “my sentiments exactly.”

Obviously, it struck a cord.  I was in good company.  This picture speaks to many of us, and we all have our unique reasons why.

When I first saw it, I laughed really hard.  It had been one of those days (little did I know what was in store since then), and it hit my funny, empathetic bone.

Maybe it was the umpteenth birdfight that ensued on my Facebook page after I posted a relatively benign link.  Yes, I think that out of 470 some-odd “friends” of varying importance and significance in my life, I may actually have my very own troll.  It’s reassuring to find that there’s someone out there who has less of a life than I.  But it’s still frustrating to have to constantly refute, referee, or at least make enough additional postings to bury it.

Speaking of asshat social networking sites, it could’ve been the fact that the “new” (ridiculous) page/profile format is now coming to the other Facebook pages as well.  Administrators of those pages, of course, don’t have any choice.  (They never do.)

Or maybe it was members of the Dysfunctional Medicine group once again trying to encroach on my turf and my circle of contacts when they had no business being there.

Or maybe it was the follow-up-slash-telemarketing-call soon after said educational shindig from the testosterone-deficient young SoCal dude with the quiet cellphone trying to ask me questions or give me info I can’t hear.  Sarcastic Bonus Points for the fact that some of the “information” he’s sharing just so happens to be for upcoming seminars I’ve already taken in cities I have a near-pathological aversion to stepping foot in.

Or maybe it was a family member patient who is so stubbornly negative that he cannot help but express his doubts and displeasure over what is actually not that bad a situation.  Yes, it’s a restricted diet.  Believe me, it could be worse.  I have certain formerly-vegetarian patients on diets that consist of nothing but chicken, lamb, turkey, fish, green leafy vegetables, and cruciferous vegetables.  Rice is an occasional treat.  For several months.  This family member is bitching about a few more weeks without coffee, for Christ’s sake.  I’m also growing very tired of the use of (a very average) age as an excuse of why not to make these changes.  And then asked me how to circumvent biochemistry.  Uh, that’s called pharmacology, which is not available under my license and has a price of its own.

Or maybe it’s the recent fiasco involving the crowd (and accompanying personality type) that seeks elective massage therapy.  The indignation, the flakiness, and the attempts to dictate our practice and methods of operation.  But that’s been resolved, and some of the biggest complainants may actually feel the flames a little themselves.  But having to set certain policies in place is a PITA that I didn’t want to deal with.  Boost that arm of the practice, yes – deal with the flaky prima donnas, no.

Or perhaps it’s the CONSTANT problems with our Windows machines – the babysitting, the errors, the unsolicited updates, and unexpected freezes and shutdowns.  For fuck’s sake, how did I ever live 20 years believing that was even acceptable?

Or maybe it’s the techno bassline emanating from the bass-friendly speakers of the neighbors below us every Sunday morning.  If I’m lucky I can respond with a radio station playing jazz – through good stereo speakers….which I’ve done.

Or could it be Firefox’s unwillingness to run smoothly after a while?  Every so often it freezes, errors out, or shuts down – although I think that could be just as much of a Facebook issue as anything else.

Either way?  Screw the world for the night.  I’ve logged off Facebook and if my troll strikes again, he’s outta here.  I’m also logging out of Facebook so that Firefox doesn’t have an excuse to crash.  I’ve tossed the ball back into the family patient’s court and if said patient won’t cooperate, s/he just won’t get the desired results and risks getting discontinued from the program.  I’m studying hard so that the Dysfunctional Med group can say, do, and try all they want and still never catch up to me.  Not much I can do about the follow-up/sales calls, but at least it’s a captive audience to which I can voice my opinions.  We’ve made several changes to the massage therapy side of the practice to either shape the problem clients up or ship them out.  We’re replacing Windows boxes with Apple ones.  And last but not least, I’ve got pictures like the one above to help jumpstart a good, therapeutic laugh.

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