The Morning Rush....

I am so f*ing nosey.  I guess it comes from being an only child.  I was excellent at pretending I wasn't paying any attention while the adults would talk.  But my ears were perked up to everything.  I took it all in, memorized it and used it to my advantage later on.  Sometimes only for entertainment.  Sometimes for prophet.  Maybe my nosiness is the reason I was drawn to working in the ER.  I get to see tiny glimpses into people's everyday mishaps.

My nosiness keeps me entertained.  The elevator this morning, is a good example.  It was about 645am when I was going back to work from my break.  Of course the elevator had to stop on every single floor. And the most entertaining bunch got on....

Floor 26 was a young doctor, my guess was an intern based on how terrified she looked.  All I could wonder was how long her pretty blond highlights were going to last when they had her working 6 days a week on the Surgical ICU.  And I had to check her wedding finger because I always wonder why the doctors marry so young.  It never lasts.  She was single.  Smart.  The ER will eat her alive.  I tried to smile warmly as if to say "us nurses aren't all bitches".  But we pretty much are.

Floor 23 was a young-ish looking guy in jean shorts and a tee shirt.  I guessed he must have been some one's sleepover buddy based on the fact that it was 645am on a weekday and he wasn't dressed for anything that resembled a respectable job.  Then my mind began to wander.  Trying to figure out who in the building he could be sleeping with.  But it's a 35 story building so, moving on...

Floor 22 (ugh I hate when it stops just seconds apart) was a pudgy little woman who was loudly eating a donut for breakfast.  It looked kind of good, despite the fact that loud eaters are a huge pet peeve.  And I wondered who just happens to have strawberry frosted donuts readily available in their apartments?  How fancy.

Floor 11 was the polar opposite of the donut girl.  A tall, stick of woman dressed in skintight black.  I swear I could see her small intestine through her skirt.  She looked like a cross between Audry Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's and those guitar chicks in the Robert Palmer "Addicted to Love" video.  She also looked like she hadn't eaten food since 1985.  I caught a glimpse of the look she shot at the pudgy donut girl and it was crystal clear that she did not approve of her choice in breakfast fare.  I bet she's the kind of woman who has a cigarette and black coffee for breakfast.

Finally, after what seemed like the longest elevator ride ever (I say that about every elevator ride) we got to the lobby where all my little story characters made a mad dash for the door.  Except for the donut girl.  She kind of moseyed on, enjoying the strawberry frosted.  As if she didn't have a day ahead of her.  Not a care in the world.  Definitely was oblivious to the fact that the strawberry frosted will go right to her hips, (and butt and thighs).  And I kind of respected her "ain't no donut gonna make me feel guilty" attitude.

You go, donut girl.  In fact, go back upstairs and grab an extra one for our 85 pound friend while you're at it.