I survived!

I made it through 3 weeks of hell. The last 3 weeks are pretty much a total blur. I'd get up at the butt crack of dawn (and before, having to get up as early as 4am some days) and drag my butt into the hospital and then get home anytime between 3 and 4 (providing that I got to leave on time. There was one whole week where I left at least 10 minutes late everyday) and I'd come home and sleep because I'd be so tired. Then I'd get up and maybe do something with my friends or family.

And then there was my hope that I'd get to see him more. Yeah right. We were there for more of the same hours, but I saw more of him when I was on second. Glad I'm going back tonight. Though I don't think he's back til tomorrow. Somehow he managed to get a concussion and break his jaw last week according to lab gossip through the ER. I miss teasing him though. And I miss our lil dinnertime chats when he'd be walking by the breakroom, see me in there and come on in and pull up a chair.

Well I guess it's time to go get ready for work so I can run my errands beforehand. And now to see how different 2nd shift bloodbank is from 1st.