Curiosity got the best of me tonight. I settled before the television, pizza box on my legs and a cold coke in my hand. I clicked "play."
Christina Ricci's chained body popped on the screen followed immediately by a naked version of herself.
Hmm. I thought to myself as I tucked into my oh-so-healthy dinner (that thankfully smelled nothing like cat laxative). Perhaps I should've waited to watch this psuedo adult film with Harry? I'm sure he would've ( a flash of breast ) , yes he would've liked this flim.
Justin Timberlake's butt cheek made an appearance in the lower right hand corner of my screen.
Scratch that. This movie is all for me!
I didn't expect to actually like the movie. I thought it would end up being one of those flicks that were watched out of "you-MUST-see-this-movie-laden-peer-pressure." But it was funny and endearing and, yes, weird.
AND with that being said, I'll move on to the good news. I don't have TB! Yup. My test came back negative!
We were tested on Monday. I walked back into the conference room and about tripped over my own feet when I noticed the large box of syringes lying on the folding table in the front.
Crap, I thought. And said. Loudly. And less PG-like.
But I needn't have worried. First I had to watch an entire video on Blood-borne infections. Over and over the screen displayed syringes, rubber band cord thingys and "bodily fluid" cleanups. After the fourth blood splatter I was seriously rethinking my lunch - pizza. And it was rethinking staying in my stomach. Resisting the urge to purge, I hopped in line bravely, wishing to get pricked and get it over with.
Grabbing on to the tiny woman's arm with a vice-like grip worthy of any GI Joe toy from the early 80's I figured I'd just take her with me as I hit the grimy linoleum floor.
And it was over.
And, I have the test results to prove it. :)