Diary of a Sad Pharmacist

Dear Diary,

Sometimes at my pharmacy I think people hate me more than Amy at Amy's Baking Co.~especially when I won't refill their narcs early. I think they're "haters." Amy would understand.

Dear Diary,

The authorities are introducing a new project to address a recent internal survey that 58% of our company's employees do not trust upper management. Maybe the fact that the authorities have money for remodeling the store but cut employee hours has something to do with it. I am always confused by management decisions of this nature.

Dear Diary,

The authorities have started a Zostavax campaign. Balloons

and signs apparently will increase immunizations. Unless we immunize a certain percentage of the list, they will erase our souls and sell our family members into slavery. I am coping with Snickers bars.

Dear Diary,

In a normal world a score of 93% is great, but the authorities are upset our service score is "the 2nd lowest in the division," yet all divisions are above 90%. Help me to understand why 93% doesn't make them happy.

Dear Diary,

I had to use my smartphone to help the customer, but yet I'm not allowed to have a cellphone while working. This contradiction is a paradox which threatens the fabric of space and time. This may be my last entry.

Dear Diary,

The authorities continue to nag us about the cleanliness of our "special room" yet continue to sneak in and use the bathroom, often leaving urine on the floor. There is no logic to this place.

Dear Diary,

The authorities have sent out an auditor to do an internal audit of our pharmacy. If we do not get a good score, the pharmacy director may spontaneously combust. Ironically, even the auditor himself said these audits make little sense. I have decided the authorities are mad men, devoid of logic and reason.

Dear Diary,

The authorities reported to me that sales are down. What, pray tell, can I possibly do about it? I have no way to affect sales. I have no budget for advertising and no way to force doctors to write more prescriptions. I am as Sisyphus and forever bound to Pharmacy hell.

Dear Diary,

The authorities continue to punish with reduced tech hours. A reduction of 10% of our weekly script count has been punished with 20% less technician hours. It is obvious they are devoid of reason, merciless, or just plain stupid.

Dear Diary,

I was asked to sign a "warning" document indicating I was given a "verbal" warning. So was it a "verbal" warning or a written warning? The confusion has caused more gray hair on by balding skull. If any hair remains, it will all be gray.

Dear Diary,

The authorities have indicated that I am judged guilty just be virtue of receiving a complaint. It doesn't matter how whacked out the complainer is on controlled substances or how outlandish her allegations, the fact that they received a complaint MUST mean I'm guilty.

I am reworking my resume now.

Dear Diary,

I have adopted a new attitude with the company to keep the authorities away. It's called "Keep the customer happy." I am no longer worried about making a profit for the company.

This week I have handed out three prescriptions for free because I could not get the insurance to work but wanted to keep the customer happy.

Dear Diary,

I have personally called twenty people on the Zostavax list. None of them want to get the immunization despite the fact it has a zero co-pay for them. The authorities will beat me for my lack of salesmanship. I will buy ice for the bruises and read "How to Succeed in Business without Really Trying" again.

Dear Diary,

The authorities have started remodeling the grocery store. Most items have been moved to new locations and the central switchboard and grocery help desk (i.e., the pharmacy) doesn't have answers. Soon, complaints will arrive and we will be doomed. Wish me luck.

Dear Diary,

Patients continue to get angry because I don't immediately know which medication they are out of, despite the fact that they've clearly described it as their "little white round pill." Obviously I am inadequate and due a refund from pharmacy school.

Dear Diary,

A patient yelled at me because I didn't answer the phone by the third ring. Apparently helping a mother find some medicine for her child was inexcusable. Perhaps this will be another complaint sent to corporate. I have lost all hope.

Dear Diary,

The authorities have decided we can wear polo shirts under our lab jacket in the summer... as long as we buy the polo shirts from THEM. The confusion as to whether I'm an employee or a customer has caused me great anxiety. I think I need some Xanax.