This place is like six degrees of separation. Today, while I was at work - while you were not at work - I got bored and went looking for some additional interesting diaries to read. You see, everyone I read updates at work, so while I'm working on the weekends, I have nothing new to read. Anyway, if you look through profiles long enough, you eventually run into yourself.

I am a filthy, smelly monkey today. I must go shower.

I wish I had a job I could write more about. It's really a heart-breaking job. The most interesting stories are, inevitably the saddest. I can't even talk about it with the "irony" that is the trademark of my generation. I work for the bad guys. Well, not really. They really do their very best at helping people make the best choices they can, but unfortunately, the choices aren't usually very happy ones.

When I had to walk up to the 16th floor today, I decided to take the stairs at the far end of the buildling instead of the usual fire stairs. The fire stairs are horrible concrete windowless stairs with pipes and stuff all through them. The stairs at the end of the hall let you look out over the city or into the apartment building next door to the hospital depending on how high up you are. However, I had forgotten about the 16th floor's details. It's the infectious disease/tuberculosis/respiratory floor. The end of the hall where the good stairs are opens right up to the part of the hall where the isolation rooms are. These are the rooms where people with tuberculosis or other infections diseases stay. Everyone has to dress in space suits and go through some weird air chamber to go in and out of those rooms. I hate walking past, but I had to since I was already there. It's really a silly phobia I have, but I still freak out whenever I cut myself on the 16th floor(I get papercuts every couple of weeks).

So tomorrow night, I'm taking the boy out to dinner for his birthday. I found out today that the place I wanted to take him was closed on his birthday, so we're going a day early. And then on his birthday, we're going to go watch a movie. I feel really awkward because this is the first gift exchange thing that we've done as a couple and I feel like I'm about to set the standards for our gift exchanges here after.

I made him buy my feminie hygiene products and prance around Safeway with them because he ate my dessert tonight in one bite and didn't leave me any! He misunderstood something I said and decided to pop it all in his mouth at once. I'm actually kind of glad because it afforded me much more amusement (and blackmail material) than if I'd eaten it myself.

Well, I'm coming into the home stretch here! Only two more work days to go! Huzzah!