I feel like the lamest person alive...

Okay, a little update for those of you who don't know. I work in a closed door pharmacy, meaning we're away from the public eye, and our orders are sent electornically, we fill them, and then we package and ship them out to the facilities.

Originally, I was positioned in the warehouse where we do the actual packaging. Lo and behold, it gets a bit tense back there around the 8:30 mark every night (our deadline). After my first summer (last year) of working there, my supervisors were nice enough to take into consideration that I'm still in college attending classes, and moved me into the prepacking department, where unlike the warehouse, we don't really have a deadline and just keep working. This department is the one where we're filling the blistered cards with the pills/capsules/tablets, and sealing them, then stocking them onto the shelves where later, they're to be picked by the pharmacy technicians for each individual order.

It's very relaxed back there, I sit in one place the entire time and take card after card, fill it appropriately with one unit of medication per blister, and heat seal it. It's a very stark contrast from the warehouse, and it kind balances the stress that I get from school very nicely.

However, there's one thing about this place that is seemingly odd to me, and that is that it's apparently very rare to find an actually competent employee. Ever since I've been transferred to a different department (I've only worked here ten months), we've already hired 3 new employees back there, the first already having been fired, and the two new ones about to be.

And the newest, current employees we have back there are horrible, and I'm not trying to sugar-coat that in any way whatsoever.

Perhaps it's wrong to use myself for comparison, but when I was back in the warehouse, I worked hard. Even though I'm just part time, this is the only job I have (and it pays pretty decently), and I understand that the orders need to get out by a certain time. I did whatever I could to make it known that I was part of the work force every single day, at least a significant part of it.

THe two new employees, every time I'm back there, they are just constantly talking, never getting any work done, and refuse to listen to what anyone else tells them to do, their supervisor (my old supervisor) included. That previous supervisor of mine, practically every night that I'm present at that place, calls me to the warehouse to "help" them catch up. I put help in quotations because of the fact that I'm doing more than helping. I'm practically doing their work for them. The speed at which I work at is not mainly due to how much practice I've had of the same repetitive process, but unlike the new employees, I have a sense of urgency and caution. I know that the orders need to get out, but I also know that we're packaging medication. Hell, one order of the refrigerated meds we send out each night could easily be around 5,000 dollars (and even if we say that only about 7% of our orders each day are the refrigerated items, when I say that we average about 900 orders a day, that's a large amount of money). The two new employees don't have either of these traits. When they are taping up the boxes to be sent out, half the time they're so terribly off centre that the box could fall apart any moment. I've had one of the pharmacists that works with us back there literally say that as he observed our work patterns, I was literally doing 4 orders for every 1 that the two of them combined did. That is not okay.

We don't have segregated roles back there. We're (supposed) to be trained to be able to do every aspect of that job on our own, so in the case that one of us can't make a day or two, we'll still be able to manage with little to no hassle.

While I call the two employees "new," that term is probably invalid at this point. They've been at this work place for nearly three months, and because they have taken no initiative of their job whatsoever, they do not know how to do 50% of their job. When we try to teach them, they will not listen. They will not ask how to do it either.

And thus, every evening that I'm there, after about 2 hours in the prepacking department, I'm called to help them catch up.

I would not mind if that is actually all I'm doing, but I'm doing 70% of the job for them, and the other 30% is divided between the two of them, 15 each. They don't even care that they see me running around all over the place to get crap done, and they continue to stand in one place until there's absolutely nothing else to do in that spot, and then they might move. Hell, they've even looked at me condescendingly before because I accidentally got in their way when they wre trying to move because I was trying to expedite the process of doing their job.

So suffice to say, almost every night I'm there, I come home a little pissed.

And I was a little more irked than usual coming home yesterday night that I almost broke down in tears.

Which is the reason for this blog post.

I feel like the lamest person alive. Why? Simple. I was worn out, just ready to drive home when I the radio after starting the engine of my car.

You had a bad day, you're takin' one down, you sing a sad song just to turn it around~
You say you don't know, you tell me don't lie, you work at a smile and you go for a ride~
You had a bad day, the camera don't lie, you're comin' back down and you really don't mind~
You had a bad day...you had a bad day~

I came home with a smile.