Cloud of funk.

Remember on the old Peanuts cartoons, where stymied and frustrated characters (mostly good ol' Charlie Brown) sat around with scowls and gray squiggles and scribbles above them?  That's me today.  I'm in a funk.

It's my first week of 8 weeks of OB.  I have a great, enthusiastic and hilarious instructor and pretty cool people in my clinical group.  I'll be at Saddleback Memorial in Laguna Hills which has quite possibly the best computer charting system on the planet.  And minus the whole "we have to wear goggles during childbirth because the RN's know when and where to move to avoid flying body fluids- we don't" thing, I'm not too over clinical yet.  However, I did watch a video clip of a C-section and dang- that was disgusting.  Miracle of childbirth???  For anybody thinking that a C-section won't hurt as much as childbirth- you should see what they do to your abdomen to get a baby out.  

And then... I found out that I've lost priority for registration and I won't register for almost 2 weeks after spring 2009 registration opens, meaning my clinical choices are limited.  Worse, I had some rude, rude, rude lady in admissions and records treat me like dirt when I just tried to get answers.  I wasn't demanding she change it.  I wasn't even blaming her.  But she was rude, unwilling to help and treated me as if I was a waste of her time.  Hey, if you can't handle your job well- perhaps you should get a new one?

And then... I came home and my ridiculous neighbor insisted on adding Bob Marley to my musical hate list by playing the Legend album incessantly.

And then... my unexplained allergic reaction/possible spider bites on my hand refused to get better.

And then... the Tall One blew off my text message about aforementioned allergic reaction because he thought I wasn't serious and that it was ridiculous.

I'm an itchy, blister-bearing, Bob Marley-hating, late-registering pile of self pity.  I'm going to go find a corner and go eat worms.  God knows there are plenty in my garden to keep me full.