Blue Cross Blue Shield Blues

In the waiting room there's a pastiche of a coral reef.
Now on the clock and Josephine still isn't calling me back;
she's likely devising ways I can become Oprah.
The BIC clicks against my cheek and 
I want to go home and be forgotten under icy sheets.
   
I'm a walking expense. It makes me feel sick before we can even begin.
At least she helped with the carpet cleaning, there's that. 
I just had to eat the other three months 
and think of how to become cost-effective. 
I'm sorry, I know I'm wrong for preferring the silence,
that's what's driven me here, paying hundreds for worksheets and guidance.

Josephine says even Oprah had her rough patches at the start.