During my freshman year in high school, my science teacher assigned us to interview people in the community about how they use science in their careers. Although I don’t remember most of the people I spoke with, I can tell you that I spent meaningful time with a local community pharmacist who changed my life.
What I saw was a man who loved his career and truly cared for his patients. In an instant, I knew that I wanted to become a pharmacist, and I never wavered from that goal throughout high school.
Knowing what you want to be when you grow up at age 14 is unusual, but it is very liberating. I simply had to work backwards to figure out how to achieve my goal of becoming a pharmacist.
After high school, I chose to attend Ohio Northern University (ONU) because it had a unique pharmacy program. Rather than attending college for 2 years and then applying to the pharmacy program, ONU students were admitted to the College of Pharmacy from day one.
Although it was expensive, being in pharmacy school from day one and avoiding the risk of rejection made it worthwhile for me.
In college, I spent a lot of time in the library. Although the classwork was difficult, I did well with one exception: organic chemistry.
I did fail organic chemistry—a notorious “weed out” course—but I successfully retook the class over the summer and graduated on time with the rest of my classmates. Failing a course is a difficult stumbling block, but I stood strong and persevered.
Today, I’m thankful for the wonderful pharmacy profession for so many reasons.
First, I’m thankful that community pharmacists are the health care professionals most accessible to the public. If my local pharmacist wasn’t accessible to me, then I likely would have taken a different career path.
Second, I’m proud of the work we pharmacists do, the diversity of our career options, and the relationships we share with our patients and fellow health care providers.
Pharmacy is a profession that makes a real difference in people’s lives. It certainly has made all the difference in mine.
home, Ignoring & Inattentive, Parents/Guardians, Spouses & Partners, UK | | Romantic | May 10, 2019
(I go to the mail delivery office to pick up a parcel, and the police are there wanting to pick up a suspicious parcel they’ve asked Royal Mail to intercept, but Royal Mail has lost the parcel. I text this to my mum, who finds it funny so she shows my dad. He just gives her a blank look. It doesn’t come up again until two days later…)
Mum: “I’m going to phone [My Name] in a minute.”
Dad: “Was it something we sent?”
Mum: “Was what something we sent?”
Dad: “The parcel.”
Mum: “Which parcel?”
Dad: “The one which the police wanted.”
Mum: “No! It was nothing to do with [My Name]. She just happened to be there at the time.”
Dad: “Was she arrested?”
Mum: “No, it wasn’t her parcel.”
Dad: “So, what was in it?”
Mum: “I’ve no idea…”
Dad: “So, are the police going to speak to her?”
Mum: “It had nothing to do with her. She just overheard it.”
Dad: “What was she ordering that was suspicious?”
Mum: “She was just getting a book she’d ordered off eBay. It wasn’t her parcel that was suspicious.”
Dad: “So, why did the police think her book was suspicious?”
It’s Okay; Easter Hasn’t Been About Christianity For A Long Time, Anyway
Coworkers, Office, Silly, Spouses & Partners, The Netherlands | | Romantic | May 8, 2019
(My office hands out an Easter goodie: a limited-edition chocolate bar of a famous fair-trade chocolate brand. It’s clearly an Easter edition, with Easter eggs and the word “Easter” on it. After Easter, we have a few left.)
Me: *to a couple of coworkers* “If someone wants, they can have a second chocolate bar!”
(A coworker practically dives on top of the bars.)
Coworker: “Ooh, I needed a gift for my wife! It has been such a while since I gave her anything!”
Me: *jokingly* “So, your wife gets free Easter chocolate after Easter?”
Coworker: “Don’t judge me! We’re Muslim, so we don’t give a s*** about Easter, anyway.”
Coworkers, Grocery Store, Harassment, USA | | Romantic | May 4, 2019
(My new coworker makes me incredibly uncomfortable, but for weeks I can’t figure out why. He doesn’t hit on me, he doesn’t ask invasive questions, and he’s always polite, but there is just something about him that makes me want to end every conversation as soon as possible. One night we are closing the store — the male coworker, the manager, and me. The manager is in the office balancing the registers and resetting for the next day, so I am stuck by the registers with my male coworker. A long, awkward silence is finally broken when he speaks.)
Coworker: “Do you like historic tours?”
Me: “Um… like [Nearby Battlefield]?”
Coworker: “Yeah. Have you ever gone on one?”
Me: “On a field trip when I was, like, 15. Why?”
Coworker: “Oh, that’s my other job.”
Me: “Oh. Cool.”
(A few seconds of silence.)
Coworker: “So, if you ever want to do a tour, I’ll take you.”
Me: “Ah. No, thanks.”
(Awkward silence.)
Coworker: “It can be a private tour; we can take as long as we want.”
Me: *internal panic begins* “No. Pollen and grass and dirt… they’re not my friends.”
Coworker: “We can do a night tour; it’s way better. And you can take an allergy pill!”
Me: *alarm bells are going off in my head* “I don’t really like staying up late. I’m an old fart.”
Coworker: “Oh, please. I’m old enough to be your daddy.” *staring me down*
Me: *knowing I’m turning red* “Ha…”
Coworker: “You can buy me breakfast as a thank-you.”
Me: “Well. I’ll have to see what my husband is up to. He works full time, too, and—“
Coworker: *suddenly angry* “Husband?”
Me: “Well, yeah. Of course, he’s coming with me.”
Coworker: “I was… You… Never mind.” *storms out*
(A minute later the manager comes out.)
Manager: “Where did [Coworker] go?”
Me: “Um…”
(I told her what had happened. She said I wasn’t the first to note behavior like that from him, but it’s hard to fire him when he isn’t BLATANTLY trying to pick us up. I thought the whole “private tour at night and buy me breakfast” and “oh, you have a husband, never mind” were pretty blatant but I guess not. He’s a lot less nice to me these days. Oh, well.)
Boyfriend/Girlfriend, California, Car, Silly, USA | | Romantic | May 2, 2019
(My boyfriend and I are both arachnophobic, but he tends to be the spider killer because I am much more afraid than he is. One day we are on a long drive when I notice a spider on the inside of the windshield and scream. He jumps and asks what’s wrong, and I tell him about the eight-legged monstrosity on the windshield. Both of us are frantic and unsure what to do when all of a sudden he reaches out and straight up punches the spider.)
Me: “My hero!”
Boyfriend: “You can’t scream like that; I thought a meteor was about to hit us!”
Me: “Really?! A meteor? That was your first guess?”
Bar, Comeuppance, Florida, Great Stuff, Harassment, Jacksonville, Strangers, USA | | Romantic | April 30, 2019
(I recently moved to the city from my hometown in the midwest for my new job. A small group of my new coworkers has taken me out to their favorite bar in an effort to welcome me. I’m telling everyone a little bit about of myself when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and see a man I’ve never met before.)
Me: *confused* “Hello… Can I help you?”
Guy: “[My Name]? Is that really you? You look great!”
(Everyone is looking at me with puzzled looks on their faces. I honestly have no idea who this guy is, but I don’t want to be rude, either.)
Me: “I’m really sorry, but I’m not honestly recognizing who you are. Mind giving me a hint?”
Guy: “Oh, that hurts. It’s me, [Name Which Happens To Be Gender-Neutral], from high school.”
Me: *with a polite smile* “I’m sorry, but I think you must have me confused with someone else. I just moved to this area and I’m pretty sure we didn’t go to the same high school.”
Guy: “No, no, I remember you. You were pretty cute then, but d***, you’re hot now. Wish I made a better effort to get to know you better if this was how you were going to turn out.”
(He laughs it off as it’s not a big deal and tries to put his arm around me like we’re buddies. I’m getting a bit annoyed, but I simply just smile, instead.)
Me: “You said your name is [Gender-Neutral Name], right? Did you go by the same name back then?”
Guy: *a bit confused* “Well, my friends and I had nicknames for each other, but that’s what the teachers called me.”
Me: “You know what? I think it’s starting to come back to me. I remember someone named [His Name] at my school.”
Guy: “I knew you’d remember.”
Me: *with as much honesty and goodness I can muster* “Got to say I hardly recognized you. I mean, we all knew back then how uncomfortable you felt in your own skin, constantly saying you were a guy trapped in a girl’s body. I really felt bad about all the grief you got from the principal about wanting to attend prom in a tux rather than a dress, despite our entire class standing up for you. But I got to say you look amazing now – you’ve transitioned so well!”
Guy: *with a look of utter disgust and shouting* “What the f*** are you talking about? I ain’t no [homophobic slur]. I’m a real man!”
(With that, he leaves my table and me alone, with the entire table looking at me in utter confusion.)
Me: “Another fun fact about me is that I attended an all-girls high school for all four years — no boys allowed. So, when guys try that lame pick-up, it’s super easy to shoot them down.”
(They all started cracking up. I was an instant member of their group from that point forward, and it made the transition to a new city much easier.)
(My live-in boyfriend of two years is currently married to another woman, and has been so for seven years. She knows about me and vice versa, as we are all polyamorous. After a peaceful but distant period of time, they have decided to divorce, as they no longer have a romantic interest in each other. He tells me about this, obviously feeling down but resigned about the decision, and I offer as much emotional comfort as I’m able to, after which I make a somewhat callous comment.)
Boyfriend: “Now I’m just happy to be back home, so I can just sit on the couch and watch Last Week Tonight.”
(It’s a favourite of his. This is where I suddenly realise something important)
Me: “Oh, no… “
Boyfriend: “What’s wrong?”
Me: *full-on nervous giggling* “You’re either going to laugh or get mad at me.”
Boyfriend: *getting worried* “Okay, what is it?”
Me: “Can we still use your wife’s HBO account?”
(Luckily, he found it hilarious, and at least my total lack of tact led to a full-on belly laugh on an otherwise gloomy day!)
(My live-in boyfriend of two years is currently married to another woman, and has been so for seven years. She knows about me and vice versa, as we are all polyamorous. After a peaceful but distant period of time, they have decided to divorce, as they no longer have a romantic interest in each other. He tells me about this, obviously feeling down but resigned about the decision, and I offer as much emotional comfort as I’m able to, after which I make a somewhat callous comment.)
Boyfriend: “Now I’m just happy to be back home, so I can just sit on the couch and watch Last Week Tonight.”
(It’s a favourite of his. This is where I suddenly realise something important)
Me: “Oh, no… “
Boyfriend: “What’s wrong?”
Me: *full-on nervous giggling* “You’re either going to laugh or get mad at me.”
Boyfriend: *getting worried* “Okay, what is it?”
Me: “Can we still use your wife’s HBO account?”
(Luckily, he found it hilarious, and at least my total lack of tact led to a full-on belly laugh on an otherwise gloomy day!)
Bad Behavior, Exes/Old Flames, home, USA | Romantic | April 18, 2019
(My ex-husband has a habit of bringing up mistakes from my past to “win” an argument or deflect attention from himself. For example, if I ask him why he hasn’t done something he said he would, he might answer by talking about someone I dated in the early 2000s, or a falling-out I’d had with a relative that I had apologized and been forgiven for long ago. At the same time, he routinely forgets about things we have done together or entire conversations we’ve had. By the time this exchange occurs, I am sick of both of these things happening.)
Ex-Husband: “Hey, whatever happened with [issue we discussed at length yesterday]?”
Me: “We talked all about that yesterday.”
Ex-Husband: “Oh. Huh. I forgot. I need to figure out how to improve my memory.”
Me: “Just pretend everything is a mistake I made over 15 years ago; then you’ll remember every detail.”
Ex-Husband: “Wooow. That was hurtful.”
Me: “Yes. It is very hurtful that you can remember something I did wrong 15 years ago, to someone else, better than a whole conversation we had yesterday.”
(I wish I could say this was the most childish thing he did, but it’s not even close. Thank you, divorce gods
Friends, Games, Great Stuff, home, Jerk, Massachusetts, USA | Romantic | April 16, 2019
(For a brief time during college, my friend group hangs out with a guy who fancies himself God’s gift to women and whose favored way of flirting is to find out what a woman likes and style himself as knowing far more about it than she does. I am the first in our friend group he tries this trick on. At the time, I am casually getting into the competitive side of the Pokemon games, which involves raising a team of six monsters to fight against other people’s teams of six monsters.)
Guy: “Let me show you my Pokemon team. It is perfectly crafted to counter all threats that can be thrown against it. I spent hours analyzing the top players to create it.”
Me: “Sure. I’m just running with some of my favorites and a strategy I like. They aren’t top-tier or anything; I just do this for fun.”
Guy: “Well, once the battle is over I’ll explain to you how to actually win.”
(The battle commences in all its Nintendo DS tension and glory. I wipe the floor with him.)
Guy: “You did not use proper Pokemon for real competition and your strategy was weak. I only created my team to win real competitive battles. Change your team and we’ll fight again.
Me: “They beat you well enough, but sure. This team is a group of spares I raised up that don’t fit with the strategy of my main bunch.”
(My victory this time is more hard fought, but just as decisive.)
Guy: “You aren’t using these Pokemon like a proper competitive player would, so I can’t predict your actions to counter them. Change your team and we’ll fight again.”
Me: “Okay… I do have half of an experimental gimmick team I could fill out with some reserves.”
Guy: “Use that.”
(Finally, after insisting I use the team of monsters that consists of my half-finished joke strategy and a few others that don’t fit with the strategy, he gets his victory.)
Guy: “Now, let me tell you what you did wrong and explain how to do it right!”
(I did not listen to him, and it was not long before our friend group stopped hanging out with him. Part of me does wish I could meet him one more time for a rematch, since my half-complete, jokey gimmick team is now a fully functional and competitively viable powerhouse that, despite its ridiculousness, would absolutely destroy him.)
Boyfriend/Girlfriend, Language & Words, Oregon, Rude & Risque, Sporting Event, USA | Romantic | April 14, 2019
(I’m not particularly interested in sports, while my boyfriend happens to be an athletic trainer. I have just brought him some fast food to a men’s lacrosse game he is working.)
Boyfriend: “So, do you understand how lacrosse is played?”
Me: “Sure! These boys have to score by handling their shafts while running down the field cradling the balls!”
Car, Ignoring & Inattentive, Silly, Spouses & Partners, USA | Romantic | April 12, 2019
(When other cars are around, my father is a very good driver. When there aren’t cars nearby, he doesn’t pay quite so much attention and often slides a bit into other lanes. This really annoys my mother, but after 27 years, she’s come to the conclusion that it’s not worth mentioning unless it’s quite egregious. Every so often, though, she feels the need to say something, as in this instance
Mom: “Honey… you’re in the bike lane.”
Dad: “Oh, that’s okay; I only have two wheels there!”
(It should be noted that he would have been nowhere near the bike lane if there were bikes anywhere in the vicinity. He really is a very safe driver. But he saw his chance to be a smart-alec, and he took it.)
While doing our weekly grocery shopping it begins to storm outside, the kind of thunderstorm that will soak you to the bone in a matter of seconds. Once my wife, my 2 children, and I are done checking out we stop at the front door to decide if we want to wait for the rain to stop. After checking the weather we decide that it is going to last a while, so I just decide to suck it up and go out to get the car, leaving my wife and kids to wait for me to pull up. I of course get soaked to the bone on my way out. Once I get to the entrance I start loading my kids in the car when the store manager approaches us. I assume she is going to tell me I can’t park there, but instead she proceeds to help me load my groceries into the trunk, along with about 4 other employees all of them getting soaked as well. I have never had that kind of service before and it’s nice to know that there are still people out there willing to help their customers even if it doesn’t help their bottom line.
While doing our weekly grocery shopping it begins to storm outside, the kind of thunderstorm that will soak you to the bone in a matter of seconds. Once my wife, my 2 children, and I are done checking out we stop at the front door to decide if we want to wait for the rain to stop. After checking the weather we decide that it is going to last a while, so I just decide to suck it up and go out to get the car, leaving my wife and kids to wait for me to pull up. I of course get soaked to the bone on my way out. Once I get to the entrance I start loading my kids in the car when the store manager approaches us. I assume she is going to tell me I can’t park there, but instead she proceeds to help me load my groceries into the trunk, along with about 4 other employees all of them getting soaked as well. I have never had that kind of service before and it’s nice to know that there are still people out there willing to help their customers even if it doesn’t help their bottom line.
In 1936 my great-grandfather left the Royal Navy with the rank of Chief Petty Officer after 22 years service. He then joined the Admiralty as a Naval Paymaster. During the war he was posted to Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). Much to his chagrin, the authorities insisted that he be given a formal rank and appointed him Lieutenant-Commander. Although he had a uniform, he swore that he would never wear it.
One day a U.S. Sub-Lieutenant needed some information from him and demanded that he presented it to him on board his vessel the following morning. My great-grandfather went home and asked his wife to lay out his dress uniform.
“But Robert, you said you would never wear it.”
“Olive, tomorrow I am making an exception.”
The following morning he arrived at the U.S. vessel, in uniform, and was piped aboard. The vessel`s captain, being massively out-ranked by a Naval Lieutenant-Commander, asked very respectfully what he wanted. My great-grandfather said that Mr ***** had demanded that he bring this information to him and therefore he was doing so.
One hopes that the U.S. Sub-Lieutenant was never again quite so high-handed with a `civilian` worker and also that he recovered from the chewing-out that he will have received from his captain.
It’s happy hour at the bar I work at, we’re serving a regular we know well for being confrontational normally, and even worse when he gets drunk, but he never actually goes so far as to swing or do anything to incite something past words so we haven’t seen fit to kick him out, we also get people from a nearby military base pretty often, so you’d have to be an idiot to seriously pick a fight. I’m working the bar and see the regular is nearing his point and has gone to pick on someone who, to my horror, is an obvious amputee I haven’t seen before.
Regular: “Come on stumpy, come at me, I’ll even give you the first swing! Or are you gonna show me you’re half the man you used to be!”
The new guy grunts. Obviously annoyed but not wanting trouble he continues to ignore him, then the regular throws his drink in his face.
Regular: “Hey, what’s that on your finger, a wedding band? You even got the d*** to please her anymore? Tell ya what, you give me your address and I’ll go-”
Before anyone can react, the regular is on the floor bleeding from his mouth unconscious, the new guy wipes off his knuckles, sits down like nothing ever happened and goes back to his drink. At this point the soldiers in the bar are going OORAH, when one of them turns to me.
Other regular: “Guy over there is the toughest damn soldier I’ve met, lost his arm to a bomb and still managed to kill the guys that attacked his squad before getting rescued.”
I see the new guy pull out a piece of paper, write something on it, and slip it into the regular’s pocket. When the regular came to it was in the back of an ambulance. The regular was banned for attacking both a veteran and a disabled person as well as jailed for assault. And as for what was written on the note? According to the Vet it was; “What does it say about you that I could still kick your ass with one arm and one punch?”
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