I don’t mean to be dramatic (okay, maybe I do). But there is an excellent chance that I will projectile vomit all over my client, a la Reagan from Exocist.

I am so tempted to call down & tell them that I just can’t do her tour. I cannot walk around for an hour, trying to be friendly & competent while choking back this morning’s Captain Crunch & trying to not dry heave on her price sheets.

As a side note, I had a dream last night that my coworker, fondly known as “Crotch Fleas,” was killed by our Director of Nursing with a hatchet. At my BFF’s baby shower. Interesting.