Uncle Roger's Notebooks of Daily Life

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I stopped in at Long's Drugs store number 84 in the Bayhill shopping center. I was there to pick up refills of my and Rachel's prescriptions, just as I had a gazillion times before. This time, however, was different. The store was different. No longer was it the familiar, familial Long's Drugs, but a cold, harsh, uncaring CVS Pharmacy.

As I often do, I chatted with the pharmacy technician who collected and rang up my prescriptions. Curious, I asked if they were still using the Long's pharmacy application (originally called PPS, then changed to PPX during the unix conversion -- I have no idea what the letters stood for). She said that no, it was gone, replaced by a far more user-friendly application. She said it had only taken her a week to learn the new system whereas the old system took a month to get used to.

Sadly, that application represented 12 or more years of my life. A dozen years' work on my -- and others' -- part, gone in a sudden poof! of corporate contracts. Things I was proud of -- the interface with the ScriptPro pharmacy robots, the label layouts, -- tossed away like a used cocktail napkin. It served its purpose and no longer matters to anyone -- anyone that matters in the corporate world, anyway.

Now, in the grand scheme of things, it really doesn't matter to me. I was paid to do a job and what they do with it is not my problem. And yet, I walked out of the pharmacy a little sadder, a little less memorable. That system and the work I put into it represented a quarter of my life thus far and now it's gone. I have nothing to show for it. Not even the company is there to serve as a reminder. I'm not sure the CIA could have done a better job of erasing my past.