Especially when the alternative is to grab the scissors and stab your coworkers in the eyes.
I consider myself a pretty tolerant person. You know, as long as it doesn't concern my neighbors, punk kids, people with stupid bumper stickers, people who grocery shop in their pajamas...
Okay, so I have an anger problem. Let's put that aside for now, shall we?
I am not a genius. I do not claim to be a genius. I do not want to be a genius. Hell, I don't even really know how to spell genius (bless you spellcheck).
However, I feel that I possess a certain level of intelligence. I am able to put pants on in the morning without incident. I am able to brush my teeth without choking myself. I am able to shower without drowning. You get the point.
I even possess enough intelligence to function as a semi-effective psychiatric crisis worker. I'm no Dr. Phil, but I get the job done.
I also possess enough intelligence to know when someone is scamming me.
It angers me.
I expect it with patients. I do not expect it with staff.
So, when I have the misfortune to work with staff who play stupid or fake being busy in order to pawn their work off on me, I get angry.
Unfortunately, I am not able to act on my anger. Security cameras people. They make you think twice about the whole scissor to the eyeball thing.
The only thing I can do is just put on my best fake plastic smile and try to make the best of a miserable situation without binging on whatever dessert happens to be in the break room.
"You forgot all of the phone numbers to every mental health agency in the entire state, the same numbers we use daily and can therefore not give referrals to this patient? Oh, well, why don't you let me handle that as I am not brain damaged."
"Oh, you didn't want me to give those particular referrals to that patient so you decided to go in and personally give him referrals of your own? Amazing how that knowledge just comes back to you like that. Huh."
"You conveniently have to leave the unit right this second even though I just told you that I have the doctor on hold and he needs to speak to you, the nurse, in order to do doctor-nurse stuff that I, the non nurse, is not able to do. Well, isn't that just peachy. I only called him at home at 10pm and all. I'm sure it's no big deal."
"Of course I can see my 4th patient of the shift. I don't need dinner. How many patients have you seen? 1? Fantastic. Can I offer you my dinner as I will clearly not be able to enjoy it? You sure? You want me to grab an extra chair so you can prop your feet up? No? Well, you just let me know, mmkay?"
Thank God for all my psychotic patients. I need someone to keep me from losing it on shifts like this.
I'm going to finish sucking down my Corona and then I'm going to bed to enjoy cozy dreams of bitchy nurses trying to remove sharp objects from their faces.
Sweet subconscious revenge.