One Vacation Wanted: nice beach, good weather, no cell service.

So I recently posted about not wanting to do my job at some point during the day. I think I might need a real vacation, though, because I've been having the following conversations to myself a lot lately. (In my head the language is really bad, but in order to not seem like the meanest casserole out there, I edited the curse words like they do for R-rated movies played on television).



Kind of how I feel when
the phone rings...

Phone's ringing. I turn off the ringer.
In my head: Muck off.

Out loud, listening to patient voicemails: Umm no, figure it out yourself.
In my head: Muck no.

Provider note on patient letter: Please expedite.
In my head: I'm not going to mucking expedite anything you cupid snitch.

Internal database message received: Please call XYZ back re. reimbursement.
My voicemail message to XYZ: Wamp wamp and here's the check information from when it was cashed over a year ago.
In my head: Mucking idiots. We only mucking reimburse once, you numb mucks. Get your slam system in order.

Patient voicemail: I sent in my payment already, when will it be processed, blah blah.
In my head: I'll get to your slam payment when I mucking get to it, you numb muck. I have two goshslam weeks. Read the mucking letter I sent you.

Receptionist beep-beeps me: Anna, there's a provider on the phone who says she didn't get the approval letter for so-and-so.
My response: I'll send it again.
Note in the database: Sending approval AGAIN.
In my head: cupid mucking idiot. Check your slam email, you numb snitch, or give me a better way to contact you.

Patient phone call: I didn't know there was a copayment. I can't afford a copayment.
Me: I understand. It states there is a copay on the front page of the application. Unfortunately, the copay is as low as we can go. There's no way to wave it. You have up to 6 months from the time of your hearing test to pay for your aids. After that you'll need to get a new test. You'll be able to save up during that time. 

Oh yeah, in case you were wondering.
But this is a great picture for how
I feel when someone asks me
a stupid, er, cupid question.

In my head: Try to be compassionate. You were poor once. You are still poor. Oh here it comes...Don't MUCKING complain you numb bass snitch. Everyone's on a goshslam fixed income, whathemuck you think I make?? And read the mucking app you signed!!!!

And it goes on. You can see how this could be a problem.

I think the technical term is compassion fatigue, but colloquially I like to call it, "my patience has run out for dealing with numb cupid idiots who can't mucking read a letter or think for their goshslam selves." Plus, the Google images for compassion fatigue were lame.

Yes, perhaps a few days away from this place would be nice.