Wednesday, June 5, 2019

June 5: Intelligent Life Form, Work Stress, Dance Recital

Having just landed on the mysterious planet of Magrathea . . .

"Are we taking this robot with us?" said Ford, looking with distaste at Marvin, who was standing in an awkward hunched posture in the corner under a small palm tree.

Zaphod glanced away from the mirror screens which presented a panoramic view of the blighted landscape on which the Heart of Gold had now landed.

"Oh, the Paranoid Android," he said.  "Yeah, we'll take him."

"But what are you supposed to do with a manically depressed robot?"

"You think you've got problems," said Marvin, as if he was addressing a newly occupied coffin, "what are you supposed to do if you are a manically depressed robot?  No, don't bother to answer that.  I'm fifty thousand times more intelligent than you and even I don't know the answer.  It gives me a headache just trying to think down to your level."

Trillian burst in through the door from her cabin.

"My white mice have escaped!" she said.

An expression of deep worry and concern failed to cross either of Zaphod's faces.

"Nuts to your white mice," he said.

Trillian glared an upset glare at him, and disappeared again.

It is possible that her remark would have commanded greater attention had it been generally realized that human beings were only the third most intelligent life form present on the planet Earth, instead of (as was generally thought by most independent observers) the second.

Did you miss me?  Sorry for disappearing like Trillian's white mice for a few days.  Let me assure you, I have not been under the influence of laziness (went to a poetry workshop/open mic on Monday night, wrote a resume/cover letter last night and applied for a job last night).  I didn't take a surprise trip to London to protest Donald Trump's visit to Buckingham Palace (I wish).  And I haven't been curled up in my bed with covers over my head contemplating my existence on this planet like a manically depressed robot (a term with which I take issue, as it trivializes a serious mental illness).

No, I have simply not had the time or energy these last couple days--once I finally did arrive at home--to sit down at my laptop and reflect on the state of my life, the world, or the universe.  Tonight, however, I have a few quiet minutes before my wife and son arrive home to be introspective.  (I hear some rumblings on the front porch, so I may have spoken too soon.)

The struggle these last couple days has mostly been work-related.  I am now employed at a cardiology practice of around ten providers.  Over the weekend, the whole shebang was relocated to a newly-built medical office building.  (This brand new medical office building is attached to a brand new hospital, which also opened for business on Monday.)  So, these last few work days have been filled with computer issues, copier issues, lost patient issues (the patients were literally lost), and parking issues. 

These two new facilities cost hundreds of millions of dollars to construct.  They were supposedly necessary because it would have been too expensive to upgrade the existing facilities in the city.  Having worked in healthcare in this area for over 20 years now, I can honestly say that I'm skeptical as to the necessity of these buildings (however beautiful they may appear--they even have a new smell to them, as if they've both been recently unpacked from a box).  However, I am, generally, a skeptical person on most topics dealing with big business (and healthcare is BIG business).  Therefore, take my opinions with a grain of salt.

Dealing with the stress of the move, set-up, and opening of this new medical office building has given me major headaches in the evenings and caused me to lose quite a bit of sleep.  It also didn't help that this all happened smack dab in the middle of my daughter's graduation weekend.  Highs and lows have abounded.  And it ain't over yet.

This weekend, my daughter has her last dance recital.  She's been taking dance lessons since she was in kindergarten.  That means that my wife and I have been driving her back-and-forth to her dance studio and competitions and conventions for about 13 years.  All that is going to end this weekend, too.

So be prepared, faithful disciples.  There will be many more posts in the upcoming days that should not be read without a healthy dose of sunshine and maybe Prozac.

Saint Marty is just speaking his truth.


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