A fine how do you do

Outside of clinic, newFNP's life is going swimmingly. She's got some cute new sneakers and slimming workout pants, her romantic life is picking up and she bought a ceramic flat iron which effortlessly turns newFNP's curly mop from wild to sleek.

Clinically speaking, not so much. It's not that the patients are any more challenging or frustrating. No, it's that, starting this Saturday, newFNP's clinic is open from 7-fucking-o'clock until 3:30. Formerly, Saturdays were a merciful 8-to-2. This vicious change was announced in an e-mail this week. No opportunity for discussion, no mention of increased salary due to extended working hours. Just an 'Oh, by the way...'

Seven o'clock, people? Seven? Come on! NewFNP isn't even a wild party girl, spending all night in the club shaking her ass to reggaeton while downing Red Bull and vodka! All she wants is to enjoy a few glasses of Pinot Noir on Friday night, maybe watch a movie or paint her toenails and then peacefully sleep until 6:30 and still make it to work on time.

NewFNP is none too pleased.

When in grad school, newFNP frequently saw students, whom she presumed to be undergrads, walking around campus in their PJs. Not even cute Juicy sweatpant-PJs, but Spongebob flannel pieces of crap. Can newFNP wear velour Juicy sweatpants to work on Saturdays? They're a hundred bucks, for Christ's sake. It seems a shame to only wear them at home.