You Know You Want To Be Me

Yesterday started out ok. I mean, I woke up so I was alive, right? It all went downhill from there. I had my last day of nursing orientation for my new job and I wasn't looking forward to another hour of boring crap that I pretty much already knew (how to work a bed, how to wash your hands, etc.). The first inkling that I had things were gonna go sour was on my way to work. The overpass that I normally used was suddenly under construction. So.....I was late for class. I made it to the room just as the instructor was closing the door. She announced "Oh! Hey everybody! Bat is here!" Great. FUCK ME! She knows my name. A class of 60 people and she knows my name. Of course, since I was late, the only seats left were on the front row. No nodding off during class today.

The morning coffee was catching up to me. There was a lull in the material and while the instructor was thumbing through her books, people started to get up and stretch and get coffee, etc. I noticed a girl heading toward the door and thought "Bathroom. If she's going, I'm going." So I fell in behind her. She just about made it to the door when Ms. Instructor announced "Ok, everybody turn to page 21 in your test packet." We froze at the door. Ms. Instructor looked at bathroom girl and kinda raised her eyebrows. Bathroom girl said "Do we have time to go to the bathroom?" Ms. Instructor nodded and for some reason, Lord knows why, I blurted out "I'm gonna help her," embarrassing me almost as much as bathroom girl. So we strolled toward the bathrooms, of course the men's is next to the women's, and bathroom girl keeps looking over her shoulder. Finally, I felt the need to tell her "I know you don't need help using the bathroom, but I need to go too." She looked relieved.

After my bathroom shenanigans, I made it without mishap until lunch. I went down to the cafeteria where they were serving something called "taquitos." It was a Mexican thing that consisted of a fried tortilla with some kind of meat inside. Lunch lady loaded me up a to-go box and asked me if I wanted anything on it. I told her "everything" and she began to slather on the salsa, peppers, cheese, onions, taco sauce and a couple of other things that I couldn't identify. Then, holding the box from the side that had the food in it, she reached up to pass it over the glass. Like a moron, I accepted the box holding the empty end. Of course, when she let go, my food went everywhere. All over my scrubs, the $20 I was holding, the glass, the counter top and the floor. Red in the face, I helped her clean her area up as much as possible and cleaned my scrubs off as best as I could. I then grabbed a side salad (gotta have the greens!) and went to pay. When I handed check out woman my $20, she looked at the money, looked at me and then pulled out a napkin and slowly cleaned the salsa off of the bill. *Sigh* So I sat down to eat my meal, alone, 'cause I like to read the paper. I uncover my salad, go to stab a piece of lettuce with my fork and the fork hits the side of the bowl, flipping it over and sending salad across the table onto the floor. *Sigh* The students sitting at the next table snickered the entire time I was cleaning it up. I'm sure the fact that my food box was a wreck with food sticking out all over the place and the sight of me wearing scrubs covered in salsa didn't help.

So, I survived lunch, made it back to the classroom and settled in to what I hoped would be an afternoon without any more incidents. Wrong! As soon as the lecture on infection control started, my nuts started itching something fierce! (irony?) Here I am, on the front row, no hope of a break since we just got back from lunch and it feels like the Keebler Elves are in my pants tugging on all of my short and curlies. I shifted my weight, scooted down in my seat, turned my chair to the side and opened my legs trying to give my tea bag some breathing room. With my happy sack getting some relief (by some I mean it still felt like Rocky Raccoon was doing the Riverdance on my scrote), I managed to make it to the end of class.

So, I drive home (after a good scratch), which takes twice as long as usual because every fire truck and emergency vehicle that Nashville owns is parked downtown for some hullabaloo. I get home, and as I often do, I immediately take my scrubs off.......and notice.......a hole in the crotch big enough to walk through. So, Ms. Instructor's final impression of me? A perpetually late pervert that wears plaid boxers. I have nowhere to go but up at this hospital.