Here’s a toast to my first complaining article.
I am writing in the gloom of the night at 2:30 AM.
Work is shit. If you work too hard, and the pay is too low (not enough for bills+gas+smokes, no food or rent), it’s actually a compliment calling it shit.
I was supposed to sleep 2 hours ago but that’s actually the time I returned from my night shift. You see, I work the same job two shifts a day, working hours ranging from 7 to 10 hours total, depending on nothing but pure luck.
I can finish at 10 PM and start the next day at 10 AM when I’m lucky. I can finish at 12 AM and start the next day at 9 AM when I’m not. Like TODAY.
What do I work as? A salesman. Yes. I went to study the equivalent of med school in a pharmacy college and studied for 7 fucking years after high school to be a fucking salesman. They call it a “medical representative”. But that’s just too big a title for the bull shit I snuff for a living. So they give you the nut kicking title of “medical rep”.
Yes. I’m a medical rep (why does that piss me off every time I say it). And it’s as bad as I’m about to show you.
You’re supposed to:
Get briefed on drugs you are to promote to medical personnel.
Get a timetable with doctors’ names, phone numbers and available times.
Book appointments. Go meet the doctors and promote your drug.
Repeat 10 times a day 5 days a week.
The problem? Hoh, hoh, hoah!
First of all let’s talk about the briefing part.
You get super crash coursed. That means that in one week, you get a 150 page lecture per day and you get quizzed on it the following day. AND YOU CAN ONLY SCORE A OR A+! LESS THAN 90% IS FAIL!!
Day after day in that fucking training I put up with this shit. I wasn’t taking anything but trusty old lamictal and I was barely sleeping. Somehow I managed to score above 90% in every single exam. Funny, coz I was struggling to get above 60% back in college only a few months ago to simply graduate. That’s how much I give my all when I’m actually working. It cost me 2 emergency visits to the mental health hospital out patient clinics coz I wasn’t sleep. Back to my dear old friend Seroquel (fuck you Zyprexa) with a meager 25mg. Helped me sleep for a bit.
Anyway, did the crash course work? NO!
There’s no time for the shit to sink in. You just swallow up the fucking material and throw it up in the quiz the next day. Then it’s gone for good. Fire and forget.
(I MISSED YOUR SHVEET LITTLE ASS!)
When the course ended, I started showing the symptoms of massive hypomania on the verge of mania. I was getting confident thinking that I look like a bodyguard (I’m 300 lbs btw), grandiose (I will be CEO easy!), talkative (10 subjects opened if I am asked a simple question), and massively euphoric (laughing to tears at how funny a dog looked when it scratches every time you pet its back). I was on the verge of hospitalization when my original psychiatrist decided to get off his butt from his chair high in the clouds to SMS the emergency psychiatrist: GIVE HIM 200mg SEROQUEL. Took it.
It was a knock out punch. Slept for 10 hours and they felt like 100.
Was almost back to normal the next day.
But it was far from a normal day. I was supposed to drive my manager 200 miles to and from Alexandria.
On the same day.
In the only off day I get during the week.
AND MY WORK WEEK STARTS THE DAY AFTER!!
How it went? Let’s just say that day almost pushed me bag into mania.
Stay tuned for more.