Blogging with a purpose

I've decided that this will be a blog that focuses on my life in pharmacy. I need somewhere to vent about the absurdities I deal with on a daily basis. The blogging market is already pretty saturated with ranting pharmacists (The Angry Pharmacist, The Angriest Pharmacist, Your Pharmacist May Hate You, The Angry Intern, Fast Food Pharmacy) but hey, they say to write what you know. Hopefully I will share some funny stories from my experiences and give you all plenty of tips to get under your pharmacist's skin. I hope I don't get as jaded as my fellow R.Ph. bloggers, but no promises.
If you don't personally know me, I am currently a Pharm.D. student at The Ohio State University, class of 2011. I have 2 more quarters of classroom-instruction then 1 year of professional rotations. Most of my writings will focus on what I experience at work, a unnamed mega chain pharmacy to be referred to as Glorious and Beloved Corporate Pharmacy, at school, and anything else pharmacy-related. Hope you enjoy.

The blog's first story is a personal one that just happened a few days ago during my weekend shift at the Glorious and Beloved Corporate Pharmacy. We have a prompt whenever you call our store that asks if you want refills; if yes, you punch in your prescription number then the pound sign and time you want to pick it up. This is all automated and cuts down significantly on our call volume (the phone is constantly ringing off the hook anyway...) and saves us some work. If done correctly, your refill pops up in our computerized queue and we fill it and try to have it ready by the time you requested. If, like most of our customers, you lack the necessary skills to read and punch in a 6-digit prescription number, you get an error message and re-routed to your friendly pharmacy employee. Me. At this point I can take your prescription number or look up your profile by name and enter in the refill myself. However, this is what happened on Saturday:

*phone rings*
Me: "Thanks for calling GBCP, my name is JakeysaurusRx, how can I help you?"
PIC (Phone-Incompetent Customer): "I tried punching in my prescription number and it didn't work."
Me: "That's alright***, I can help you with that. What's the number?"
*I start hearing the mashing of keys on the phone- yes, that's correct, PIC chose THIS opportunity to try again to punch in the numbers.*
Me (after what I believed was the pound sign): "Ma'am, I don't think you-"
*More mashing of the keys*
*5 seconds of stunned silence*
PIC: "Did it read that?"
Me: "... well... No, I don't think so. Maybe you could just tell me your name and I could look it up."
PIC: "Maybe I'll just call back and try it again."
Me: "Just make sure you punch the numbers in when the automated machine prompts you to, not in the middle of a conversation with a human being."
PIC: "Oh, does that make a difference?"
*Click*

*** This is actually not alright. Figure out how a phone works.

What makes this even more incredible was her key-mashing technique. She held each key a minimum of 2 seconds with 2 seconds in between each key- did it take her that long each time to find the next key?

This is an example of why I called them "patients" when I started working 3 years ago and call them "customers" now. If I don't call them something else.

I haven't decided if I want this to be a personal blog (because I know everybody is still riveted by everything I post on the ol' Livejournal...) or more specific, like focusing on my adventures in pharmacy... at school, at work, my nerdy application of it to all aspects of life. or i'll just start this blog and never update in it again, despite promises of grandeur (I'm looking at YOU, JadedMcBitter)