One of the pharmacists that works in our unit is leaving and her going away party was tonight. I was having a hard time motivating myself to go: too cold outside, it’s been a long week and going to bed early again sounded like a fantastic idea. Plus, Milwaukee being light-years behind the rest of the civilized world has yet to enact a smoking pan in restaurants and pubs (Madison has a smoking ban. You would think that it’d be pretty easy to make it state wide) and I don’t inhaling cigarette fumes, nor do I enjoy smelling like an ashtray afterward. But friendship and the promise of Swing Dancing Thursday Nights lured me out of my cocoon.

There was no dancing. Instead, there was another private party that another hospital was throwing, who took over the stage and closed the kitchen so I couldn’t eat the potato skins I was so looking forward to, and worse, started singing karoke. The women were wearing either skimpy clothing that I froze just thinking about or these bright jewel-colored dresses that came to the knees and were belted above the waist. Straight out of the 80s. I think Claire Huxtable wore an identical dress in several different episodes of the Cosby show. If these are coming back in style, I don’t want to know.

And now I’m really sleepy. Luckily, my attending doesn’t want to round until 9:30, so I’m sleeping in. It almost makes up for the 7 o’clock rounding earlier this week.

Night all.