It's after 10 pm and I want to go to bed but I can't because I have a chocolate zucchini cake in the oven. What was I thinking? (I was thinking, "that zucchini will not last forever on my kitchen counter."). I got up early (for me) this morning and now my rear-end is dragging. Clayton had his "routine" cardiac MRI today in Danville and we had to leave the house around 6:45 am. Oy. The little guy was a champ. He didn't cry, whine or wiggle when the nurse started his I.V. She had to stick him twice and he took it better than most adults do. I was very proud of my little guy. We won't know the results for a while, but I think it's going to be OK.

The thing I do know is while sitting under the atrium reading a magazine and waiting on Clayton, I realized how much I miss working in health care. I felt it in my core. Is it the patient I miss? The feeling of helping people during a time of anxiety? Is it the professional feeling I used to have when I wore the lab coat and greeted people with a smile? Is it the money? I know I prefer to be on the other side of health care (the one administering the test--not the parent of a child having the test).

I didn't mention this to my husband. There's nothing he can do about it and he likes to "fix" things, so I know it would probably frustrate him to hear it.

I do know I miss being prepared to do a job, too. That has been a frustrating part of working in the airline industry. Image matters and that's about it. I don't like the feeling of being ill-prepared for a job. Oh well. No one is making me work there, so it's best I don't complain.

Four more minutes and the cake will be done. I hope it turns out all right.