A five minute tirade

Apparently 17% of online viewers have their own blog. In other words, everyone is so busy writing about their own small, solipsistic life, that no one is bothering to read anyone else's. And why should they, it's mostly crap anyway. And if that's not enough stupidity, they then open themselves up to the sadistic comments posted thereafter.

Isn't there laundry to be done? Or maybe read a book, time well spent?

This is the career of bored housewives I'm sure. My hunch is the husbands and kids are looking askance at these self-centered activities. Just think, the dinners would be so much better if ...

Pharmacy still is in the dumps. A bit better last week, slower, thanks to some obscure Jewish holiday, one where the dutiful daughters attend services in the rafters while their husbands get the good seats. I see it all as just more of the same, following the herd. One cow, one sheep at a time.

But not a mistake all day from me in what is now, this fucked-up state of pharmacy. So much better in the 70's when there was a profit margin. When two pharmacists could actually work side by side. Talk. Laugh. Later.

Confessions of a Pharmacist

I'll start with avoiding a lawsuit. I'm rather naive about this sort of blogging ritual but the one thing I keep hearing is not to name names. So to avoid any messy litigation, the chain I work for will herein be named CVF or maybe Walblues, no I think it will be Acme drugs. Fictitious, but seems to make its point. In the future if I hear from any well-meaning lawyers out there, maybe I can actually name the chain pharmacy without losing my house, my cat, my son. Big brother really is watching, lurking somewhere behind men's hair dye, around the corner from chondroitin and Maalox.

I began working for Acme Drugs 850 hours ago which in part time parlance is about one and a half years ago... as a pharmacy intern, and in just a few months, will have completed my 1000 requisite hours. Then it's off to a pharmacy law exam which if I pass-never a sure thing-will magically turn me into a full fledged pharmacist. Basically there was a hiatus from pharmacy of approximately 30 years, working as a high school biology teacher (4 years), print broker (15 years), and NY Times freelance writer (3, unless you count rewrites). Of late, in this uncertain, last gasp economy, the broker business has plunged into freefall, the NY Times a tailspin (online and not paying), and that left the one lonesome annoying burr in my sock... pharmacy. But the surprising truth is... tada, drum roll... I really don't hate it. I sort of find it, well, total gravitas, in an overwhelmingly solemn way. The job is important. Nothing fancy, no cocky editors, no frou frou design firms checking 4- color dots. This shit is real. I could kill anyone of you out there by simply being in the middle of a really funny story, with a snappy punchline, as the techs double over in laughter and ... oops, procardia, not prozac... hypotension, fainting, dead on the floor in your suburban split level.