My wife, a nurse, had to work from 11am to 11pm, on Valentine's Day. I attempted to be a good husband.
I left work for the grocery store, HEB, which, without argument, is the best grocery store on the planet of Texas. I bought the things that Giada told me to buy so I could make my wife a nice little dinner. A dinner of Rolls of Lasagna. Lasagna in a fun to eat package. A wonderful collection of Italian cheeses and prosciutto de Parma safely secured in pouches of pasta. It is a wonderful thing, something that was introduced to me by D-toid's own Itemforty. Lasagna Rolls.
I made this dinner, and fed the dogs. All was well. Dinner finished, and I lovingly packed a duet of meals to take to my wife's ER. She met me at the door, and we looked for a place to eat.
We found the "Team Room".
It was a closet with a table and a fridge in it. The table was unassuming and at the same time, not, like someone at a party who obviously didn't want to be there. On top of it, a bucket of nothing which included straws and leftover napkins and mints and plasticware. The fridge was a fridge. Stark white against hospital teal walls.
Against one wall, a corkboard, with various announcements on it, all outdated, all old and forgotten. A Christmas stocking was pinned against the bottom corner of the board, unused and filled with lost dreams. A light hummed as we ate.
It was almost the most depressing place I've ever been.
We had mini cans of Diet Shasta. I was thirsty, but what I was thinking was, "This is what dying people drink."
I couldn't finish mine. The Lasagna rolls were good though.
I got home and finished Endless Ocean.
Happy Valentine's Next Day. read