or, why that mule on two legs, L-Rex, fired my fine ass right after these messages.
Are you Christmas shopping yet? Doing it online? Trying to find that perfect gift? I'm not. But, you might be. With that in mind, consider this as yet another CP public service announcement. I found a cute website for Holiday Gift Ideas that I thought I would share with you. You know, because I am good like that. I am a gift basket freak. They have tons of holiday gift baskets. CP likes the bon bon tin, so feel free to hook a princess up. Or, the Dom Perignon gift would do as nicely. Just sayin'.
Alright, back to the story:
It's last Thursday. Our last patient has come and gone. The girls at the front desk, the other two nurses (one being Hairy Melon) and I are all standing around with our proverbial thumbs up our asses. (Can't wait to be googled on THAT description!) There is NOTHING to do. I filed. I charted. I made surgical calls. I made sure I finished everything I could possibly think of. The doctor left for the day. It was two o' clock. My hotband was moving our entire house of furniture by himself that day. We also had a furniture delivery coming at the new house. Obviously, as fine of a man he is, he simply cannot be in two places at the same time.
"Do you ladies mind if I leave a little early today," I ask. "I have a furniture delivery coming."
"Nope," they chimed in unison. "Everything is done. No problem."
Sweet. I call my office manager, Laura (who I will now mention by name because, well, frankly, I don't give a sweet ass suck any longer), who is once again, out of the office. What the hell else is new? I call her cellphone. Straight to voicemail. I don't leave message. I call the ugly bible thumping rag who is usually second in command for administrative nonsense when Laura isn't around. Her name is Margaret. Her hair looks like it has been in an oven for the past 40 years. Yes, I'm hating. So the hell what?
(I gotta admit, it feels REALLY good releasing some names! *L*)
I ask her if it is alright if I leave a couple of hours early to get a furniture delivery at my house. She says, "it's FINE". Are you hearing me, People? Two words. ITS/FINE. Doesn't get much clearer than that, right? I say to her, cool, and if Laura is pissed about it, just tell her to call my cell and I will come right back to the office. Margaret the bible thumping wanna be faux Christian says, okay.
Two hours pass. I hear nothing more on the subject. I think, no issue. This is cool.
I get a call from D. tellin' me that the twat that is L-Rex was snarling down the halls, blowing smoke from her gills and flapping her mule gums in the wind. Hee HAW...HEE HAW...whinney whinney whinney. Translates to:
"Where is CP! Why did she leave early? Who said she could?!?!?"
I imagine that the roar of the wild scared Margaret so badly that she shoved her bible up her own ass out of fear. I can picture Laura, lifting up her hooves, braying like a donkey while all the other cockroaches scatter under their desks. Chicken shit bitches. God forbid one of them say, HEY. CP only needed an hour or two off. No big deal. Calm down. Here, have some hay. Or a carrot.
No. No one did. Bobble headed bitches.
I ponder whether I should call Laura at this point and explain myself. I think, what is there to possibly explain that can't wait until morning?
Be warned. When a braying donkey stops braying and silence abounds, the donkey is about to morph into Cheetah, Queen of the Jungle and pounce your ass like a lame elephant caught in the watering hole, alright? Silence is deadly. Still, I opt not to call her. I can't be bothered. It was TWO freaking hours, for God's sake.
The next morning, my phone rings. It's our Physician's Assistant, Ed. He tells me to come down to the main office instead of the satellite office. I sigh.
"What's this about, Ed," I ask him.
"We need to talk," he says quietly. This man loves me, so I know this was a difficult moment for him.
"She's firing me, isn't she." It was more a statement than a question.
"I can't answer that right now, CP," he replies.
"Be there in a minute," I say before hanging up the phone.
I grab my purse, I kiss my husband goodbye and tell him I will be back shortly.
"What do you mean," he says.
"I'm getting fired," I reply.
"I guess I'll let you know when I get back."
Next installment - The Confrontation: When Mules Attack.
*surely you didn't think this could be told in one post now, did you?*
ATTENTION READERS IN THE NYC/NJ/SURROUNDING AREAS: The Hotband and I will be in town on December 20th for a one night only engagment. We are looking to hook up (no, not like that, perverts) with other Bloggers for a night of drinks and laughter! Anyone interested, please email me at certifiableprincessATyahooDOTcom so that I may send you an invite and give you the details. If you have blogger friends that I don't know who live in the area, please bring them along! Open house party at a sweetass yet to be determined pub. Keep the night free and start your bail fund now!