Tracy

It's been a long time I know. Basically felt it was a waste of time to write in a vacuum, with nary a reader to be found, unless you count my Chinese readers, but seriously, folks, who are these people? But still the need is there, just to write about things, to try and share this experience of, yes, still interning as a pharmacist. Mostly to hold onto some sanity in this god forsaken profession. We'll see how it goes, no promises.

As some of you know the Walblues (Acme pseudonym) internship was a wash. The Board of Pharmacy never counted one lousy hour of the 1000 spent there. 1000 hours of sadistic imprisonment, of total pep talking myself through those sliding glass doors, into that frozen, air conditioned hell hole.

Well, things did get better, for a while. I found a new internship in a smaller independent pharmacy, but as time went on it got, well, sort of claustrophobic in that mom and pop way.

And believe it or not in this teensy store, I still managed to work under a Sally type commandante. Younger than Sally (if you remember, Sally was the amazonian woman from Nigeria), 26, white, a tiny girl, but still a pharmacy manager bitch. So here we are almost 800 hours in, and this Sisyphus intern is still heading to yet another hateful place, under the thumb of yet another autocrat. What's with all these pharmacy managers that don't say hello in the morning. "Hi Tracy." I say. No eye contact, not even a grunt. God help me.