Well, the rose-tinted spectacles I've been wearing for the past 3 years at work have finally slipped and I'm seeing the cold, grey, light of day peeping above the rims. It's been a bloody nightmare for the past month or so and I'm now officially exhausted. I mean, I'm not pretending that I've enjoyed every single day for the past 3 years (6 if you count my training) but overall I've still been able to say 'yes, I do really love my job!' with a smile on my face. Now, the smile is more of a grimace and the best I can manage is 'it's alright...'
Ah, it'll pass I'm sure. It's just that boring office politics happens in the midwifery world too and staff shortages are...well, I'm sure you only need to read the Daily Mail* to get an idea of how bad they are. Now I'm the boss (ha!) I'm being dumped on all the time and I'm fed up. I would like to have a weekend off. Or even a day off. No chance sister.
Oh stop your bleedin' moaning.
*Not that I'm suggesting for a second that you actually would
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