Cheddar? Brie? Gouda?

So one weekend day a month, I am scheduled to work inpatient. I work at a local hospital's outpatient physical therapy clinic, and LOVE the *outpatient* part. But, thanks in part to us being a "community hospital"----AKA, no one wants to work here, so you'll have to pull double duty----tomorrow is my day of scrubs, the smell of people who haven't had regular baths, and mostly cranky people who do not want to stay awake, let alone practice getting out of bed/walking/exercise just for me. I HATE IT. I would rather work a whole weekend of outpatient versus one day of inpatient work. I know, wah, wah, wah.....here's a little cheese to go with that whine....see post below.

Nevertheless, I am a planner. So I planned today off to "prepare" myself for the misery that tomorrow brings, and what happens? I am sick. I slept for 11 hours. I roll out of bed (not before taking my temperature, of course), and instantly fall right back into it from the 100 panoramic views of my bedroom that I experience in a whirl of about 2 seconds. I've been feeling extra crappy all week, but this takes the cake. I'll bet my first child on the likelihood of feeling 100% tomorrow (thus, removing my call-in ability). No, I take that back. No betting anything on my first child. I've put too much emotional effort into that. The one thing that I WILL bet on is that even if I feel crappy tomorrow, I will still go in to work. 'Cause I'm putting off the inevitable if I don't...

On another note, I still need to go out and pick up a few things for the Super Bowl party we're hosting on Sunday. Yeah, the party that my dear sweetie "forgot" to tell me about until Tuesday. I hope they like cheese and whine.