Life of a former witch

I've outgrown my wicked witch of the west ways. Reflections of life afterwards, living in the desert with two cats, friends, family, and my hot and cold love life.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

and I thought I was having a bad day

I've got so much work to do in the lab that it ain't funny. Plus I'm in the middle of a celiac episode - complete with DH on the legs again. So somehow in the middle of hands full I have to scratch my legs.

I come back to the lab from running some flow (at least this stuff looks good). The door's propped wide open. A big "no-no" for our building. I walk in, and smell a slight odor of burnt rubber.

"What happened?"

"Car fire in the hospital parking garage." Remember, I'm in the building where they thought it was a good idea to have fresh air intakes for half the air circulation, and can't be easily shut down.

And I bitch about my day. Some poor fellow came to the hospital to see someone in the hospital, or come have a test done. Then your ride home goes up in smoke. About the most inaccessible area for fire trucks apparently. But that's why they have long fire hoses I guess.