At the Lab

So here I sit. Captive. Not even one-hour into a four-hour glucose tolerance test. I did not get to eat. I did not get to drink. When I arrived, Shirley gave me this disgustingly sweet orange stuff to drink (although it wasn't as disgusting as the stuff I drank on my last test), and now I'm waiting for her to poke me every hour. But, by the end of this we should have some Concrete Data that Could Change My Life.

So I put up with it, although not with much grace. (After all what can you expect from someone who hasn't had their morning tea?)

I am about to commence working on the WIP, but I thought I'd check in with you all since I was able to hop a signal (actually it's the city's free wi-fi).