"I wanna get physical, let's get into physical..."
-Physical, Olivia Newton-John (or better yet, Goldfrapp's cover)

It was that magical time in a girl’s life where she gets to go for a routine physical. I was also asked many more probing questions before the physical probing followed by the blinding of my eyes with the light on a stick. At least I got pancakes for breakfast to go with my tetanus shot. Rusty shivs be dammed, I’m good for another ten years or puncture wounds. Although now my arm is aching and I can see the slight discoloration of a bruise forming. Damn my wimpy skin. My new employer will think I’m some sort of needle drug user and that I just like it in the upper arm area. Can I call in sick on my first day of work?

"I'm sure you'll understand my point of view"

I made the trip home to attend my doctor’s appointment. Usually, when one thinks of going home to the family they imagine being fed healthy foods, vegetables, and milk to balance out what most parents assume (and secretly know) that you’re eating while away. Like my dinner of candy 2 weeks ago. But that wasn’t the case. When I asked what we were having for dinner, my mom replied, “Pizza Pizza, chicken wings, and pop. We have cookies at home.” After this well-balanced meal (scored the leftovers too!) my dad force fed me frozen mini chocolate bars left over from Halloween while demanding that I watch “CSI: Miami.” We also had a good family cry over the Beast, although I couldn’t bring myself to go visit his place of eternal rest in the backyard. It was weird to be home without Tony around because I subconsciously kept looking for him, expecting him to be at the door yelling at me to let him in or smothering me in my sleep. It was a hard thing to come to terms with but we hugged it out as a family. I tried my best to convince my parents that a new addition to the family was needed, “But we can call him Seamus, or Cary Grant is a good name for a feline!” But my parents now have their sights set on getting a leather couch now that the Beast and I aren’t around to tear it up with our claws or by couch vaulting.

"I've been patient, I've been good"

Tomorrow is my first day of work, or as I like to call it, enslavement. I don’t think it’s the kind of job where I’ll be able to update this blog, enter contests, YouTube, or drink copious amounts of caffeine during the day, but you never know. The boss is only in 3 days a week so I’m sure there’s room for slacking eventually. At least I have a dental plan. This be the company website which I will now be at liberty to update. I’m not really that nervous at all, but I am apprehensive about actually having to report somewhere at a set time 5 days a week. I haven’t worked an actual day since May 5, and even then, I hardly worked at all. Since there will only be 5 of us employed at the production company, I’m less likely to be ignored, forgotten, or left to my own devices. Working also screws up date nights since now I’ll have to reign in the amount of alcohol (yes, I know, I can just show up mildly hungover, but not in the first few weeks. There’s money to be made and student loans to pay back next month). So no late nights and beer with Justin for a while.

"It's getting hard this holding back - you know what I mean"