ugh

Oct. 25th, 2016 08:36 am
beanside: (Default)
[personal profile] beanside
Things are going well with the new job, I enjoy the people I'm training with, and the job's not too tough. I'm looking forward to getting into the second round of training next week--we started out training for the "first contact" and now are spending two weeks taking the calls--mostly delivery issues, stock checks, etc. Nothing horrible. (Though, damn. There are some entitled people out there.) Next week we go in for a week of training in our real job, which is resolving cases for the delivery issues, product problems, etc. I'm looking forward to it. I like being able to solve problems for people, and that's the whole job. Thus why I'm going into resolutions.

I wasn't sure how I'd like being out of medicine, since that's what I've done my whole life, but it's kind of freeing. No matter how badly I screw up, I'm not going to affect anyone's health. I can't cause them to miss a problem if I misread a test result, can't put them in withdrawal if my doctor doesn't call in a script. It's nice. No matter how badly I fuck up, it's just furniture.

(I'm having a flashback to Santino Rice singing "lighten up it's just fashion" on Project Runway now...)

In more annoying news, did you know that after a major illness, up to a third of women have a bout of major hair loss? And, it is reported more often in people who have taken Levaquin for that illness? Guess who was on Levaquin for her pneumonia? I'm not vain about that much. I'm a fat, short chick with bad teeth. I like my green eyes and my wavy, thick hair. I'm really fucking vain about my hair, okay? And it is falling out, a lot. It's not to the point that I can see scalp, but it's obvious to me. My ponytail is about 1/2 the thickness it was. According to the internet, it's probably temporary, but damn. It's freaking me out, and I HATE it.

I'm trying not to let it bother me, but everytime I run my fingers through a section of hair, I'm pulling between 5-10 strands every time. Even if I've brushed. It seems silly that I'm so upset. Things are so much better than they were. I'm not sick, I can breathe enough that I don't panic when I cat sits on my chest, I've got a good job that I'm enjoying, everyone in my family are healthy, and we're financially solvent at the moment. I just can't stop worrying about it.
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