I hate it when people bail on plans. I am a planner ... for example, the fact that I don't know EXACTLY when I am going to the race expo for the Philly marathon next weekend is sort of driving me crazy.
A good trait? Hell no. But I don't think it's going anywhere any time soon.
Tonight, though, I managed to deviate from my plan.
After an absurd week at work -- the kid of week where it's hard to explain why it sucked without going on and on about work and violating HIPAA in 88 different ways -- I was planning on spending a few hours after work lifting and then doing a quick 3 miles on my new most least favorite thing, the treadmill.
After an awful meeting in the morning and then an afternoon of being asked things like "Oh, can you get patient so-and-so immediate emergency insurance, because they have 88,876 follow-up appointments after their discharge next week" (uh, what the hell is immediate emergency insurance, and can I have some of that, please?) and "We decided that this kid needs to go into foster care immediately, so do you just get the court order and take them home yourself, or what?," I wanted to punch people in the face. Hard, and frequently. **
The idea of driving to the gym, lifting, running, driving home cold and sweaty and then deciding whether to just call it a night or destink myself and make some plans made me sad.
For probably the fifth or sixth time in my running life, I bailed on a run. My gym bag was in my car, my iPod was charged. But my brain was having none of it.
I wanted a damn beer.
Instead of the gym, I headed to one of my favorite bars (although the bartender we had tonight was quite a wanker) with a co-worker where we ranted about our shitty work week and sipped some autumn beers.
I mentioned no less than 8 trillion times that I bailed on a run for a happy hour, which I am sure she was completely fascinated by, but I was sort of proud of myself.
Of course, right now it is 9:30 on a Friday night and I am on the couch in my PJs sipping some Nuun and watching CSI in anticipation of a 7 a.m. wake-up call for an 8 a.m. run so I am clearly still the biggest dork in town.
** Fortunately, for my long-term sanity, I was covering a unit that is not my own ... I luv my NICU and hate it when I have to venture off to other areas of the hospital.