On Thursday of last week I actually went out. To a bar. With other people. Granted, it was underneath a hotel and we were the only folk in the place with teeth, but I had a beer, courtesy of Emilia, and the men (six of them) all had wings to celebrate it being Chuck's last night with us (the police volunteers). He's retiring. The wings looked dire, but Chuck got all sentimental anyway.

This week I am working all week again, the Tuesday girl didn't get her knee surgery but she's convinced the pain in her side is cancer and is trying to find a doctor who agrees with her. This, apparently, is a full time job.