I am too fat

I met the Cluster Chief Executive today in his bid to get to know the front line staff. In my department it is either of us, but since I am the non-head I had to go. So I did. And I was supposed to go voice my concerns as a allied health professional who is right in the thick of things. One thing to start, the guy was late by 15 minutes. That's like... one patient treatment time!

Anyways, the meeting was for all Allied Health Professions except Physio and Occupational Therapy. There are too many of them and we didn't need them around because they are annoying and would be a fire hazard in a small room. So the meeting somehow revolved around how everyone was asking for more space in the new hospital they are building. I somehow managed to toughen my guts and asked for it too. I mean, I know we are getting bigger rooms when the hospital is being rebuilt, but the thing is, I can't get around to the other side of my room once the inpatient bed is pushed into my clinic. I am not joking. I need to breathe in and suck in my stomach to be able to squeaze past the bed to reach my phone/computer/equipment/dressings. So I asked (very nicely of course) for some space so that I can walk around the patient bed and get to my dressings cabinet. All very well for me to say, but the Physio head was not too pleased as he knew he had a spare room four times the size of my department just next to us, and he was not about to give it up. Everyone looked sorry for me and gave me sympathetic looks as I said I will have to go on a diet to be able to work here.

Let's hope the Chief has a daughter my age so he will fall feel sorry for the 'dieting-for-the-job' story. The HR chief thinks I need the room, so does the chaplaincy and the cute dietician who sat next to me and translated the meeting from cantonese to English for me. Men are nice aren't they? I wonder if the Physio Chief is actually a woman in a man's body? Why doesn't he have pity for me?

I am having dinner with a friend's parents. My social life is so sad. I went to dinner with the boss and played with her kids, ate advent calendar chocolates and made paper snowflakes. Why do I seem to appeal to people old enough to be my parents? Ra tells me to take my dinner apppointments as practice sessions. Then potential mother-in-laws can call up all these aunties and I can get a good reference. I shall practice my interview skills well so I am prepared to face all manner of mother-in-laws and charm their socks off.

PS: Hong Kong girls must have miniscule boobs. I can hardly find bra sized to fit. They shun boob-exposing tops but bare all downstairs. I hate their short but skinny matchstick legs. Gah! Even grannies walk around with barely anything on the bottom, leaving nothing to the imagination! *shudder*