My friends call me 'Chowder'

Despite a morning that promised to make today longer than any other horrendously long day in this neverending week, I found surprisingly numerous graces as the day progressed. It could be because I prayed this morning fervently that graces be made blatantly obvious since my pessimism promised that the challenges would certainly be so. And they were. Third day in a row for CRRT, two patients undergoing last-ditch efforts to save their life. I'm ashamed to admit that I contemplated how either patient's death would mean less work for me. What a horrible thought to have surface when I could have been thinking that my work could potentially allow this person to live. CRRT has lousy success rates and these patients are nearing the end anyway, but it saddens me to know where my thoughts were today. I wish (and I pray) that I might have an optimistic spirit, easily seeing the grace and wonder in my day rather than having to beg God to give me glimpses of it. Still, my prayers were answered (despite my negativity and shameful pondering). The sunrise was beautiful this morning after a night of uninterrupted sleep (a rarity this week). I got to take a snack break mid-morning which included Krispy Kreme. Not my ideal snack considering how health-conscious I'm pretending to be, but it tasted good. My lunch tasted wonderful after a morning of queasiness. It was cooler today than it has been which meant that I got to roll the windows down on the way home and listen to my brand new mix CD courtesy of a Harry Potter fan site (lame, I know, but still a grace for the day). I was motivated enough to go on a run which didn't feel like a grace during and immediately after, but does now that I'm showered and relaxed. And I get to have etamame for dinner tonight after remembering for the second Friday in a row to eat sans meat. And more grace in the anticipation of hanging out with Mary tomorrow. See, for as many lousy moments as I could choose to focus on, it was an okay Friday.

Moving on to a totally different subject which has burdened/amused me for a while: why is it that the working world seems to have no concept of work ethic or awareness of time? It's like people get hired and suddenly decide that it's okay to show up 6 minutes late every day or leave 7 minutes early because the time clock still rounds to the nearest quarter hour. It might not seem like 6 minutes should be a big deal, but what are they gonna do in that extra time that couldn't wait? Or why is it that everyone seems to think that a 30 minute lunch means that you get 5 minutes to get your food, thirty minutes to eat, five minutes to finish your crossword puzzle and 5 minutes to get back to work? Seriously, if I went by coworker time, I'd have a 45 minute lunch-break every day. This isn't news to me. Every job I've ever had involved some employee taking advantage of their supervisor's inattentiveness and/or apathy to stretch breaks, push tardiness, and slack off in general. I wouldn't have expected any differently of Colin and Ryan, the two high school wonder boys who threw tree parts at moving lawn mower blades. And probably I could let the Regis painters slide because I'm currently of the opinion that boys never grow up, so even if I was appalled at their laziness and miscreancy, nobody else was. Besides, all those boys made me look great. But I would expect a little maturity, respect and hard work from those people who are old enough to know better and whose life style requires a salaried position. I would fire all their butts. Or at least threaten pay cuts. That's why nobody would ever put me in a managerial position and why I'd never accept one.

Well, that's all for the ranting except my lasting wonder at what would possess someone to think that just because someone doesn't answer their phone at 11:30pm that they are clearly in danger (not asleep) and should be rescued by a well-meaning brother who incessantly rings the doorbell at 12:30am (yes, a.m.) causing the dogs to bark just as incessantly. Just call back in the morning, hello bonjour! I mean, I don't fault her for caring, but her methods hint at madness.