These days, at least three times a week, someone will come up to me at random places like work, the grocery store, the bowling alley, and ask a question somewhere along the lines of:
"Does Jared have an opening at one o'clock tomorrow?"
or
"Can I swing by Jared's office to fix his computer at noon today?"
or
"My ribs are killing me. What do you think Jared would tell me to do?"
This morning, I decided once and for all that I'll start responding to these questions.
"Yes."
"Sure."
"You probably need surgery."
Now don't get me wrong here, I absolutely love the fact that Jared's office keeps getting busier, but the truth is, I have zero clue as to what my husband's schedule looks like (and I'm just a teensy bit rusty on my differential diagnosis skills, too). It's a miraculous day when I don't over schedule myself to the point of
sh!tting m'britches for lack of bathroom time--micromanaging my husband is plain old out of the question.
Honestly, here's what I know about Jared's schedule: 60% of the time he's too busy to pick up his cell phone, 30% of the time he's doing some unneccessary bulk shopping at Sam's Club, and 10% of the time he's playing Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook. And I'm 100% sure that he'd be some pissed if I scheduled the tech guy to come during his Bejewled time--it's utmostly precious.
My workday split looks completely different than my husband's. I'd have to say that 30% of my time is spent resolving conflict, 40% of the time I'm busy dumbing things down so we can make a little bit of progress, and the other 30% of the time is spent scheduling meetings, rescheduling meetings, or holding meetings where we decid that the only logical step is to have another meeting.
My job is kind of like death by frustration. Jared's is more like death by bulk candy purchases. In the end, they sound equally painful--his is just a little more fun in the meantime. But really, I'd rather do my job than his job any day of the week.
I have my own office, so most of the time, I sit around and fart up a sweet storm. Jared completely lacks that privilege in his line of work. If Jared needs to lay one down, it's absolutely necessary for him to make up an excuse. Just so you know, if you're ever face down on his adjusting table and he says something like, "Hold on a sec. Let me just run into the supply closet to get a new sticker for your file," what he really means is, "MY GOODNESS I'M ABOUT TO RELEASE A TOOT AT THE EXACT LEVEL OF YOUR FACE AND I ABSOLUTELY CAN'T LET THAT HAPPEN."
And it's not just that. Jared has to deal with people in pain all day long. Have you ever thrown your back out? Do you have any idea how much it hurts to laugh at the chiropractor who just farted when you have a slipped disc? See, so when he does accidentally let out a little poof here or there, he doesn't even get a giggle from the witness. So freaking embarrassing.
The only thing I can't do while I'm at my job is flush while I'm on a conference call. And who am I kidding? I do that all the time. Just today, while I was on the phone about--wait for it--a meeting, I meant to hang up and then flush. But because I'm me, I accidentally switched it around. I really hope I brightened that guy's day.
I'm also pretty lucky because I don't have to deal with insurance companies. Poor Jared spends too much time on the phone saying things like, "Hi Insurance Company. I billed you $50, but you only paid me $3. How come?" And they're like, "Because we can." Then they hang up.
But you want to know the very worst part?
I call Jared approximately twenty times a day with the same question: How's your day so far?
When what I really mean is: How many patients have you seen so far?
But I didn't ask what I meant, so he says something like: It's good.
And I go: Busy?
And he says: Yeah, pretty busy.
Then I pry: With paper work?
And he knows I'm prying and says something non-binding like: With office related things.
Then I snap: CAN WE PAY OUR ELECTRIC BILL THIS MONTH OR NOT? DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT ME? WE HAVE KIDS YOU KNOW!!!! NEXT TIME I'M MARRYING RICH!
That's probably the hardest part of his job. That's the reason I'd never trade.
7 comments:
You've got to love a small town. People HAND me their electric bills as I'm checking my PO Box...
I really need to work in my own office if the benefit is tooting when I want to.
Oh well. Now anytime I'm at the chiro, I'm going to wonder if he needs to toot. GREAT!
My husband tooted on the Chiropractor one time :-O
I would totally understand if my chiropractor had to toot... I'd probably toot right back and give him a high five.
A face level fart is a dangerous thing. A weapon of that kind is reserved for serious use.
That's what Google Calendar is for. So after adding his calendar to yours, you can knowingly schedule the tech guy to come during his Facebook time.
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