driven by sibling pressure and sheer boredom

This is my life...for better or for worse.

Working in recruitment I get some pretty interesting phone calls from people looking for work. Some cut right to the chase (do you have a job for me? no, okay, bye), while others e-mail me their life story hoping for sympathy. People who don't barely, if at all, speak English. People without work visas. People who want more money than they are worth. Then there's the random voicemails - lots of "hi, I was referred to you by someone who said you can get me a job, so call me back" but no phone number or name.

By far, my personal favourites are the wrong number messages. Thanks to the wonderful people at 411, I get a lot of calls from people with health issues (don't ask). The best one was Carole Wood, and I wanted to start off this blog by paying homage to her. Her story goes a little something like this:

Hi, this is Carole Wood. That's C-a-r-o-l-e...umm...Wood, as in "wood". I have accidentally taken the wrong thyroid medication. I have taken my cats thyroid medication. It was next to mine on the shelf and I didn't notice until it was too late. The doseage is different....hold on...uh...nevermind, I can't find my glasses. (at this point, you can tell she is having a good chuckle at her own expense). Anyway, can someone please call me back and tell me what it is that I've done to myself?

Now maybe it's just the logical, rational side of me, but if I took the wrong medication and I called in to a 1-800 hotline, I would hope to speak to a real person and not leave a message.

Carole, if you're reading this, I'm sorry for not returning your call; you didn't leave your phone number.