I have the best co-workers in the world.

I do. I absolutely do. The best, I love them.

My 41st year has been off to a rocky start. It started with a short but violent bout of gastric disaster of some kind. Sorry, I am not enough of a nurse yet to say exactly what it was, except evil. That laid me low for a couple of days and seemed like a bad omen. So I forced myself to go to school (sick as a dog) for my first A&P class and the subway line I take to school had a meltdown causing me to be late to my first class (grrr). Then because of the piles of un-shoveled snow, we couldn't get in the main exit, further delayong me. Then I had another class the next day and went to the wrong classroom. Late again, I find my way to the right class and the Pharmacology professor assigns 12 chapters and a quiz the next week. On the first class. Great. The next day, the subways were all screwed up and I was late again for A&P lab. Just to be consistant, I was again late to my 8:00 AM Nutrition class this morning. It's been the kind of week where everything that can go wrong did. Plus I am feeling old and fat and cranky.

So why do I love my coworkers so? This afternoon they dragged me and another worker having a birthday down to the lunch room and fed us cake. And they sang to us. And they took up a collection to send me to go get a massage. (Which it looks like I need!) I was so overwhelmed! I mean, I know these guys are great. They are funny and quirky and each of them has something interesting or cool about them. But I just wasn't expecting this. I guess I really needed it. So, now I feel lucky again! And I am!