I had my medications shipped to my work address since that's where I can generally be found on a weekday, but of course they were delivered during the two hours I wasn't at work this week. So not only did my darling coworker Stephanie sign for them, but she is caring and knowledgeable enough to know they needed to be taken out of the box and stored in the fridge.
I realize that putting some boxes in the fridge isn't a huge deal. But it brings to mind other instances when I have been grateful for my work family. Like that time my car wouldn't start so my supervisor drove 15 miles out of her way to take me home because she didn't want me to get bored waiting for Adam. Oh, and that amazing baby shower they threw me last summer. Or that time I got sick and was out of work for three weeks, and I'd already used every last minute of my personal time during my maternity leave, so they all donated some of their time so I could still get a paycheck.
I constantly find myself complaining about having to work. I'd much rather be at home with my baby. I hate being exposed to all the germs and illness that are an unavoidable part of working with the public. I hate that things are always MY FAULT and the customer is ALWAYS right. I have a hard time maintaining a pleasant and professional demeanor when dealing with people that are rude or, let's face it, just downright stupid. But, somehow I still love my job. I credit that to the people I am surrounded by each day.
When my doctor orders a 24 hour urine collection that has to be refrigerated until it's sent to the lab, and I can bring that enormous container of urine to work and store it in the employee fridge and one coworker tells another that something is "in the fridge, behind Jenny's giant jug of pee" without even batting an eye, things really can't be ALL THAT bad, can they?
So, the only picture I could find happens to be this one from
last Halloween. This is all but one of us in the branch I work in.
We were all vampires...