When Joe’s wife ran away with his car, his money and his best friend, he got so depressed that his doctor sent him to see a psychiatrist. Joe told the psychiatrist his troubles and said, “Life isn’t worth living. I think I’m gonna top myself.”

“Don’t be stupid, Joe,” said the psychiatrist.

“My wife ran off and left me too, yet I’m happy.”

“How?” asked Joe.

“Easy,” replied the quack. “I threw myself into my work.

I totally submerged myself in my job and soon forgot her. By the way, Joe, what work do you do?”

“I clean out septic tanks,” Joe replied.

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In order to pay his medical school tuition, Thomas Merrick was working two jobs over the summer.

By day, he worked at LeClaire’s Market—a butcher shop. He wore a stiff white coat splattered with crimson and trimmed fat. By night, he transformed.

Down at St.

Ambrose Hospital, he traded cleavers for stretchers. As an orderly on the graveyard shift, his white coat now clean and crisp, worn over hospital scrubs.

One night, long past midnight, Thomas was called to prepare a patient for surgery. Room 216.

Elderly woman.

Appendectomy. He arrived with his usual calm, smiled softly, gently eased the gurney beside her bed, and began to help the nurses ready her for the trip down to the OR. She was pale.

Small.

Her eyes fluttered open, cloudy but alert. As Thomas leaned in to adjust the straps, the room froze.

Her eyes locked onto him—wide, horrified. Her lips trembled.

Then, as if struck by lightning, she bolted upright and screamed with the terror of a woman who believed her last hour had come:

“God save me!

It’s the butcher!”

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Lisa & Judy were doing some carpenter work on a Habitat for Humanity House. Lisa was nailing down house siding, would reach into her nail pouch, pull out a nail & either toss it over her shoulder or nail it in. Judy, figuring this was worth looking into, asked, ‘ Why are you throwing those nails away?’

Lisa explained, ‘When I pull a nail out of my pouch, about half of them have the head on the wrong end & I throw them away.’

Judy got completely upset & yelled, ‘You moron!

Those nails aren’t defective!

They’re for the other side of the house!’

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A man was telling his co-worker one day that the company was transferring him to Chicago. He explained that he was going to quit before he had to move there.

When asked why, he replied that he was just too afraid of all the crime even though he would be passing up a big salary increase and greater benefits. His co-worker said he should reconsider.

Chicago was a magnificent city, with world class museums, loaded with a great history, sites, good public transportation, etc.

Then he said: “Why I myself worked in Chicago for almost 10 years, and in all that time I never ever had a problem with crime while I was working.”

The first asked “What did you do there?”

To which the other replied, “I was tail-gunner on a bread truck.”