Sociopathy 1:25

Some people do not have a conscience. In fact, 1 in 25 people don't have a conscience. 1 in 25. They're called sociopaths. They're not all murderous villains. Some just don't want to work and can manipulate the system to make that happen for them. They have no inner voice telling them what they want is wrong. Some are murderers, criminals. Most are CEO's, teachers, police officers. No kidding. I learned this in a recent class I attended regarding toxic people. An it is probably the most important thing I have learned to date.

You see. All this time I thought everyone had a conscience. Everyone but crazy murderers that is. And that everyone operated on the same principles. Everyone wanted to do good, do the "right" thing. When you realize that 1 in 25 people don't care about what is right or wrong. Rather they care about how to get what they want weather it be fame, fortune, a promotion, power, to be taken care of, drugs. Right and wrong play no part. When you realize these people exist it all makes a little more sense.

That jerk boss who stole your ideas and got promoted. The co-worker who scapegoated you. The peer who bullied you. The boss who manages to look good at the expense of others. The boyfriend who never gets a job and you continued to support. The addict who keeps going to the hospital and nothing is wrong with them but they get lots of pain meds and a million dollar work up. People who fake a disability. They all have one thing in common. No conscience. They have figured out how to get whatever want. A free ride, drugs, attention, power.

1 in 25. That's a lot of people.

Labeling IV bags

Why? Someone explain why I have to label a bag of normal saline with a sticker that says it's normal saline when the bag already had normal saline printed on the side?

It drives me nuts.

I didn't add anything to the bag of normal saline. What nurse does that anymore?

The last time I added a drug to a an IV bag was when we used to heparinize flush bags for art lines. I understand labeling that IV bag.

I don't get labeling a bag of NS with another label, covering the original label with my label.

Welcome to the department of redundancy department.

Interview rash

You probably can't tell very well from the photo of the crook of my arm but there is a little red prickly rash there. I call it my interview rash. It actually was way worse but has been getting better by the minute.

My big job interview was today. And my friendly little outward expression of anxiety and stress showed up behind my knees a few days ago. It progressed to my arms yesterday. Itchy. Red. Not good. No Bueno.

The interview went well. I should call it "the inquisition" (and I have). Only because it's two hours long. And with two different panels of interviewers. Torture.

I think I nailed it. I owe some of that perceived success to my sister-in-law. She told me "It's a game. You have all the answers because they are YOUR answers. There is no wrong answer because they are YOUR answers." I also owe some of my confidence to my sister who shared her experiences of interviewers whose goal it was to make you cry. I chanted in my head as I walked down the hall toward the room to the interview. "they are my answers, my answers, none of them are wrong, they're all right, it's a game, it's a game, just smile and give my answer, I can do this!"

I think it might have worked. I'll let you know if I get the job.