Take a good look at the gal to your left because she could be my twin about now. Except that you wouldn't catch me dead in a cap. And I wear scrubs and my hair is usually pulled back. And I never went to dance school in the first place, much less zombie dance school, which is immediately obvious as soon as you see me on a dance floor. (Although, when I stepped in that huge puddle of pee at work the other day, I was doing dance moves of my own to stay upright as I skidded about four feet. If I hadn't grabbed on to the patient's IV tubing I'd have gone down). She may have better color than me though, now that I look closely. If you saw this walk into an exam room carrying a needle how reassured would you be?
I'm still trying to shake whatever that thing was that nailed me last week. It's mostly gone, but hovering just a bit in the form of off and on light-headedness. Very off and almost not at all on, but still strikes when you'd least like it to. Sunday, the last day I worked, was brutal, and is making me very apprehensive about going in for my next shift, which happens to be...today. In one hour and thirty three minutes, not that I'm keeping track. Oops, just had a little bout of brain wander and now it's one hour and twenty eight minutes. Can you feel my enthusiasm?
Oh well, better suck it up and go face the music. It's only twelve hours and then I have two beautiful days off. Hopefully it will be enough time to de-zombie myself. Or at least buy a cap.