Working Mom Blues and The Case of The Boy Who Wanted to Cook Rice

As you may have guessed by the title, I am back in the saddle, working a 12 hour shift as an RN on the night shift at an unknown rural hospital. I've been swamped all night and am finally sitting down with a good cup of joe (thanks to "Nurse Happy Sunny Day"). I strongly had the urge to whine, fuss and throw a temper tantrum when I arrived at work due to my perceived work load, but I refrained myself. Patients, family and other staff may have become quite distraught themselves when the relief worker was found to be throwing a temper tantrum. Since I am too big to be disciplined, and my mother is living in another state, I reluctantly behaved.
Though I am an Emergency Room Nurse, I some times work in the Acute Care Unit. I much prefer the emergency room. This is mostly due to my attention deficit condition. I like the pace of moving people through and "fixing" them or sending them somewhere else to be "fixed". If I see some one for too long, I am afraid I will become too bored. Especially at night, it is rather painstaking to watch a floor full of patients sleep when I cannot be doing so myself. I quickly become bored and find myself once again longing for the diversion of the adrenaline driven emergency room.
When I arrived in town today, I was mortified to discover that my cell phone no longer dialed home. In fact, it didn't dial anywhere, but one place. I heard a recording that said "don't hang up! Your call has been diverted." It didn't take me long to figure out that we were late paying the bill and that this was some fiendish plan on the part of the cell phone company to collect if I wanted to call somebody bad enough. I contemplated telling them that I was stranded on a desert island or possibly on another planet and needed to phone home, but decided I didn't have the time or energy for such drivel. Besides, they would want me to promise them some money and since I am no longer in charge of the bills, I am happily clueless.
I was later surprised to receive a call from my teenage son asking me how to cook rice. I suppose they do not divert incoming calls, though perhaps they could if they really wanted to. They could try and collect partial payments from would be callers, kinda like a phone booth. I can see it now, "you really want to talk to your mama kid?.....give me a credit card number and I'll put it right through". Oh the nerve of these bill collectors. What child wakes up in the morning and says "Gosh, when I grow up I think I'll be a bill collector".
Well, any how, so my son asked for directions on how to cook rice. All ears of my co- workers were on as I described the process. When I finished that, I again rehearsed for the millionth time some general motherly instructions on how to survive a night without me there, how to care for the baby, and other annoying unneeded tips. Then I told them not to expect any calls because of the cell phone predicament. I wonder if patients and co-workers lose confidence in a nurse who hasn't paid her cell phone bill.
Well, I suppose I must be getting back to work. I fear what gooey, beastly scenes I may find upon re-entry to my kitchen in the morning. Rice without supervision can be an ugly finding. Even now, it may be invading the entire house. Sticky, gummy granules could be making their way like bugs into every room. I can imagine them stuck to the bottom to socks, spilled under the table and quite possibly flying like b52 bombers into unknown territory.