The Love Of The Last II Survivors

Chapter 5

Shana's POV

I pulled up the sleeves of my white sweater to see the time on my smartwatch, as I noted the time I had left before lunch break.

Half an hour.

I inwardly groaned.

Tik, tok.

I continued looking at my watch.

Tik.

Tok..

Tik, tok.

Tik.......

Oh, come on!

Tok.

Why is it that every time whenever I'm doing something I don't like, time goes by so slowly?

It's as though life is trying to find ways to watch me suffer.

Well, yeah I'm indeed grateful to be employed but doing the same thing over and over and over and OVER is just hurting my head. 

It's not something I can control, you know?

Whenever work starts, I look forward to lunch. Whenever my lunch ends, I look forward for work to end.

I eyed the watch as if I could kill time with my laser beam eyes.

I have been looking at my watch every 10 minutes since work has started.

Maybe I should consider switching jobs since this is too mundane for my brain. Maybe a job like marine life animal rehabilitator?

I would seriously look forward to working everyday if I can work with marine animals!

Work in the pharmacy went by excruciatingly slowly, making me close to losing my sanity. Maybe I'm just a drama queen. 

But it doesn't change the fact that it's so tormenting.

The data-max labeler printed out the medication labels needed to be packed. I shifted my glare to the data-max labeler. That would be the next thing I want to destroy.

One day.

There were 3 drugs to pick. 3 packets or Ketoprofen patches, 12 tablets of Methotrexate, 3 syringes of Recormon for different patients. 

I hesitantly bent down to the bottom shelf to pack the patches but it was still in its warehouse carton.

I sighed.

To be honest, I just felt like laying down and just die. I guess maybe that's just my depression speaking.

"Anyone have a penknife?" I asked, raising my voice to anyone who can hear.

"Used to. I lost mine after lending it to someone earlier," Wendy responded.

Guess I have to do it the hard way, then. I took a pen that I saw on the counter nearby, jabbed the tape, then dragged it down from one end to the other side of the carton. 

I lazily yanked out the flap and pulled out 1 box.

I opened the box and pushed my fingers in between of the patches to pull out 3 packets except that when I slid my fingers in, the sharp edge of one of the packets made a cut to my nail cuticle which made me hissed out in pain.

"Oh great!" I sighed in annoyance,

"Well, isn't this day just wonderful?"

I bit on my finger so that I don't feel the sting.

I'm relieving pain with pain.

Does that make sense?

"Stupid packet! How dare you hurt me!" I scolded the pack as I slot 3 into the Ziploc bags before pasting the label.