I have used this little picture of Barry the Llama from Exmoor Zoo to add a touch of comedy to an otherwise quite angry blog today.
I was late to my dr's appointment today: 10 minutes. Not bad in the horrific traffic there had been. Firstly, the receptionist said I was 15 minutes late. I pulled out my phone "ten minutes". Then it was a sharp instruction to sit down and it'd be up to the Dr if they wanted to see me. My excessively polite and grovelling apologies met a deadpan face and a puckered expression. When my name was called (30 minutes later; 40 minutes after my appointment) my Dr apologised with a smile for being late. The receptionist will have known the Dr was running late. Where do these pea-brained power-hungry women get the misaprehension that they are right to treat people this way? They have a hard job. Right. OK. So do a lot of people. What happened to manners, service, humanity?
This came at the end of a day filled with absences of humanity: in the office I had left a window open after I left and a manager guy suggested reporting me to HR. I am normally the sort of person who worries something chronic if I think I've done something wrong but this time I was hugely amused. Why not just speak to me rather than report it to someone about 400 miles away?
Looking forward to polite conversation (because I'm an optomist; it must be out there somewhere), Ellie x
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