There is a bubbling fountain of frustration in my epigastrium towards a certain boss-man at work. After being accused of being a poor student with non-existent attendance after a simple mistake (which I took ownership of immediately) that he didn't even bother to get my explanation or EVEN accuse me to my face, I feel nothing but agitation. I tried to put myself in his shoes and look at what it must be like to be a preceptor... a brand spankin new preceptor with new crown of importance and responsibility resting on his head, but it is impossible to justify why a person would not take a complaint directly to the source. Of course confronting a murderer or rapist is out of the question, but I feel like I should be wearing the scarlet letter. Was is guilt? fright? apprehension? Am I too scary to talk to? Is it laziness? Disorganization? Did he lose my number? This is crazy.


Now it is the exceedingly late appearance of the May schedule.

No schedule yet. This is the one job that all students wait anxiously for so they can plan the rest of their busy student life (ie. time to study for boards). Yet he seems to have total disregard for any deadline he gave to us and continues to work at a sloth-like pace. Come on man, I have a plane to catch on Friday morning and I don't know if I work the Thursday overnight shift.

Feeling similar to Billy Joel's "Pressure" today, not gonna lie.