Number of hours it felt like: 800

Time I got off work: 5:30

Time I finally got home: 6:15

Number of times I heard that fucking Rihanna song: 3

Number of times I was near tears, just out of pure disappointment in myself for choosing to go this route again: 2

Number of cuticles I totally messed up: 4

Time I have to start tomorrow: 1:00

On a scale of one to ten, how happy I was with today: 2

But first days are always bad, aren't they? Ugh. Anyways, I figured that was the best way to sum it up.

Um...

I'm tired. And I'm also watching the news now. Yay for the Norwalk-like virus going on at the hospital. That's always fun. So... yeah. Might as well wrap this baby up. I need to go die now. Well... I'll wait until after the news.