“I did it,” Marissa screamed.
“What, er what?” John asked as he groggily tried to understand what was going on. He resented his well-earned nap being interrupted by the boisterous Marissa.
“Celebrate with me, come on, get up you lazy bag of bones,” she commanded.
“Why should I bother? Just go away and leave me alone, please.”
“No, you have to come out and play with me.”
“I don’t want to. I have not had any sleep all week long. You know I have been doing rotations at the hospital. Just a few more weeks of this and I will be home free.”
“I know, that is why we have to celebrate. I finished my rotations.”
“Oh my god. I am so jealous.”
“I knew you would be,” she preened.
“So it is official. You are now a sports medicine doctor thinga-bobber, Marissa”
“That is Doctor Marissa to you. Keep working at it, and you will soon be Doctor John, medicine man,” she giggled as she jumped up and down.
“Stop it, my neighbor is still peeved at me from the party we had after I finished the pysch ward rotation.”
“Who cares what she thinks. Once you are a doctor you can move out of this dump.”
“I know, but until then, I gotta keep the neighbors happy.”
“Whatever. How about we open up that bottle of wine you have been saving to celebrate? I can get a couple of cups out of the cupboard while you can open it.”
“No can do. I was feeling sorry for myself and drank it all when I did the proctology rotation. That was the grossest thing ever.”
“I am so glad I didn’t have to do that one.”
Opening John’s refrigerator door, Marissa inventoried the contents. “This is it. This is all you have, some old wrinkled carrots and a bag of whatever this stuff is?”
Looking over her shoulder, John said, “That used to be lettuce.”
“Ick,” she said as she quickly closed the door. “Well then how about we go out somewhere and have dinner to celebrate.”
“I don’t know, Marissa. Where could we go?”
“This is Kansas City. There are a ton of places we can go.”
“I know that, but we have to go somewhere where I can afford it. I am still a resident you know.”
“Okay, how about this is my treat?”
“That works for me,” he said as he grabbed his orange jacket and threw it on. “Come on, let’s go to Flemings steak house.”
“Hold on, poor boy. I said it would be my treat, but I am not making any money yet either. How about we head down to Panera?”
“Yea, that would work for me. But can I get one of those Caramel Lattes?”
“Yea, this is a celebration. Why not, Lattes for us all!