Dramatic should have been her first name. 

I still can’t quite put all the pieces together, but when she walked in with her apron still clean, hair in place and not a stain on her uniform shirt, yet claiming to have had “The worst shift ever in my life”! I had to chuckle.

Throwing herself on the sofa like she just finished a battle of surgeries in the o.r. tent on *MASH*. Her arm draped over her eyes with a sigh of despair and exhaustion all in one. Okay, I’ll give her that, that was new.

Her voice tried to tremble, and her eyes worked to hold back the tears that were no where close to being created in her tear ducts as she exploded her God-awful nightmare of a day.

I could only manage to understand a few words between her struggles of breath as she apparently just finished a triathlon I didn’t know she signed up for. Something about spilled coffee, a new business suit, eggs not cooked right and something about burnt toast. I had no idea that breakfast could be so rough.

Although she seemed to have the worst shift ever, every shift. 
As Chandler Bing would put have it, “Could we be any more dramatic”?

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