So I have been beating myself up for not ‘working.’ I mean… What’s one of the first questions people ask when they meet you? “What do you do?” “Where do you work?” There are many different ways the question is asked. Point is… So much value is put on what another person’s job is. Truth is, I don’t have “a job.” I haven’t worked since my former manager said if there were any restrictions, I couldn’t come back until they were lifted. This led to… Well, another story for another time.

So… Job. Me. None.

Except I do have one.

I’m a professional patient.

I have one to six appointments every week. The times I only have one per week are when I have to cancel or reschedule. I take handfuls of pills several times a day. I have had nerve blocks. I have had surgeries. I live in pain 24 fucking 7. It is my JOB to get better.

So what does that have to do with a line from Buffy?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

So I’m Carlie. That one writer chick who’s a professional patient.

Monday evening happies, loves.