sandwiches and stairs

i just got chewed out by the hospital house supervisor. plllbbfffftttt what a way to end the last 20 minutes of an otherwise great day at work huh? siiigh. and get this!! the turbulent exchange was over a lack of sandwiches in the units overnight!!! mehh. i love my job and nothing makes me more happy than seeing patients eat well. but if you yell at me over sandwiches, i will be thinking in my head how awesome it would be to cure you into a processed piece of ham and vacuum-pak you between 2 slices of wonder bread. wait'll i tell my boss...

wow, someone needs anger management..

on a side note though, i did come to a personal discovery after all was said and done. ever take those personality tests or come across an interview question that asks whether you deal with stressful situations calmly? i used to always check yes by default. one, because that makes me look better (and my test results more satisfactory) and two, because i'm not commonly put in stressful situations enough to be able to judge my response thoroughly.

well, now i know.

i don't do well under stress. i'm not good at maintaining a cool, calm, collective composure. and i don't like to argue about sandwiches.

sumsing to work on i guess :/

tangentially, i also discovered that one particular stairwell in my hospital looks and smells like the stairway of my second preschool. for a couple months during my childhood my family moved to north carolina so my dad could be close to his sisters. while there, i was enrolled in a preschool where my class room was upstairs. every other day after the teacher made sure everyone had their own lunchbox (i was rocking a tin, blue carebear one with matching thermos) we'd climb the stairs up to a world where everything was new and exciting and completely in english. hahaa

now every time i take that particular stairwell up, the smell reminds me of drinking tropical island capri sun, learning how to balance a spoon on my nose, and stealing other people's tricycles because my dad accidentally ran over mine :D

it's funny to think back at 4 year old me. i had no idea what kind of person i would become 21 years later.. the things i'd laugh at, cry over, see... this could all get very psychoanalytical but i'm too tired to think so... i'm gonna go see if i can still balance a spoon on my nose...

i wanted to take a picture of the stairwell but my hospital doesn't really condone cellphone pics for hipaa reasons.. so here's a picture of my doorknob. i know. riveting.