Scrooge's nephew, Fred, is disgustingly positive, all the time. Even when faced with Scrooge's ridicule and spite, Fred stands firm in his Christmas spirit. Frankly, I've always thought that Fred is a little drunk in his encounter with his uncle at the beginning of the novel. That's the only way, I think, Fred refrains from telling Scrooge to kiss his mistletoe. Of course, I don't endorse the consumption of alcohol as a coping mechanism, but if I had an uncle like Scrooge, I would certainly imbibe in a little Christmas cheer before paying him a visit. Yet, Fred is nauseatingly positive.
I received some not so great news yesterday afternoon about my job at the surgery center. Seems they have to close the place down for a little while to "decommission" an OR. It's all part of the take-over...sorry, acquisition...of the hospital by a much larger health care organization. I sat in the department meeting where this was announced, listening to all the positive spin being shoveled out, and my initial thought was, "This is shit." Now that I've had over twelve hours to reflect on the news and evaluate things, my response is, "This is shit."
I wish I could be more like Fred. Stay positive in the face of Hurricane Ebenezer. He doesn't let anything dampen his mood. Perhaps I need to buy some wassail, whatever the hell that is. It seems very British and perhaps is the source of Fred's unflagging Christmas "humour." Right now, I don't even want to go to work. I will. I need the job, the money, the health insurance. There's no question whether I will show up to work. The question is how long that work will last. I don't have very much autonomy in this situation.
Maybe the hospital should install a wassail fountain in the lounge. Couldn't hurt.
Saint Marty will try to keep his good humour to the last, even if he's thinking, "This is shit."
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| I take my wassail shaken, not stirred |
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