Wednesday, July 11, 2012

The Wrong Kind of Famous-Locked Out

According to TV, popularity is something that we all strive for. It must have some truth, because one of my favorite things about working at a small hospital is the fact that almost everybody knows who I am. I love waving to people as I walk in my office and having people say, "Hi" as I walk down the hall.  If my life was a sitcom, these scenes would be in every episode. 

However, there is good and bad fame. Over the months of May/June I managed to lock myself out of my office on four separate Tuesdays after coming back from the orthodontist, which is a post for another day. Now, when I pass someone from building services I hear, "Do you need in your office? Wait it's not Tuesday." I still feel popular, but in the, "Is there a sign on my back?" kind of way.

If this was my only fame, I think that I could feel pretty good about it. But it's not. Around the time I was locking myself out of my office I had to change multiple passwords at work. I meant to make them the same, but didn't. This has resulted in me locking myself out of my computer multiple times due to typing the right password on the wrong accounts, repeatedly . Luckily, St. Luke's employs a large staff of IT specialists that are just waiting for me to call. The large number of St. Luke's employees also means that even if I get the same IT professional, with a name like Liz, they won't remember me.

That all changed on my first day back from my vacation. As I spelled my name and stated my occupation, my IT professional said, "Didn't you call last week?' Since I was on vacation, I hadn't called... that week. However, over my year at St. Luke's I have called IT more times than I can count, especially in the past few weeks. On the bright side, it has to raise your self-esteem to know that at least you can successfully remember all of your passwords. I'm going to chalk it up to making somebody's day.

 Hopefully, this trend won't need to continue. I really don't want to start locking myself out of my car enough that the locksmith knows everything about me. 

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