glee

On Thursday and Friday last week, I had to visit two different hospitals where I used to work. One trip was to spend time with the substance misuse liason nurse, and the other to try and finish off an audit I was supposed to be doing during my last job. The whole process filled me with glee that I am no longer working in hosipitals.

"Ha ha ha," I thought to myself, as a very loud alarm (possibly the fire alarm - who knows?) went off for five minutes for no observable reason, making conversation almost impossible, but not causing anybody to stop their work. "Hee hee hee," I gleefully mused, as I listened to a stressed looking SHO have a 15 minute row down the phone with another SHO about a rota swap. (although obviously I was sorry for the poor bloke.) "Ho ho ho," I chuckled when I had to eat some form of cardboard in the oppressively decorated canteen. "Ha ha ha ha!" I felt like saying, when a consultant from my previous job tried to give me a rollicking about the fact that there are discharge summaries piling up to be done in the junior doctors' office, without realising that I had actually left and didn't work there any more.
Felt like telling him that now I work in a place where people actually treat me as a fellow professional rather than some kind of naughty lazy student who needs to be told what's what.

And in all the quiet moments on my own, walking down the corridor, or washing my hands in the skin-stripping soap, and especially in the car on the way home with the windows down, I was singing a little song... It was the tune of "Bread of Heaven/ you're not singing/ are you scotland in disguise", and it went, "I don't work here, I don't work here, I DON'T WORK HERE ANY MORE!!! (any more) I don't work here any more!"