Today is pretty much awful.

I slide my debit card and pay for the salad and a cup of fruit in the cafeteria, resisting the urge to add a sugar cookie to my tray. I have the tendency to stress eat, but I instead walk towards the booth in the corner that houses my best friend, sliding in across from her and the large binder she's searching through.

"Hey, Joan."

"Hey, Donna."

It feels heavenly to sit down. My break isn't very long, but today, I'm going to savor it. We've been in and out of the OR all day with a packed schedule, and I'm ready to take a breather. The woman across the booth from me, however, looks like she's growing more frazzled instead of less.

"The caterers called and left me a voicemail saying that there's a problem with the oyster bar. But I've called them back 3 times and nobody is answering. You can't just call a woman, 11 weeks before her wedding day, and tell her there's a problem with her oyster bar and then not answer the phone again!"

"Joan. It's 11:20 at night. No caterer in their right mind is going to be in the office."

"I have his cell phone number." Joan stares back at me straight faced, with a twinkle of crazy bride in her eye, and I know it's time to take matters into my hands. It's for her own good.

"Okay, well in that case you may want to start looking for another caterer altogether because this one's going to think you've gone round the bend." I reach over and pull her cell phone towards me, wondering when my normally laid back best friend turned into a raving lunatic but I'm going to guess it was 10 days ago when her mother called to add another 68 people to her guest list.

Joan glares at me for a moment and then sighs and leans back in the booth, morphing back into her usual self before my eyes. "You're right. Thanks."

I shrug my shoulders. Joan has been the only reason I'm holding it together so well at the moment. Things in my life don't exactly seem to be going as planned as of late. And let me tell you, I do love a good plan. You see, I had it all figured out. As soon as I graduated high school, I enrolled in the nursing program at the University of Wisconsin. The plan was to then apply to medical school and specialize in pediatrics. I've just always loved kids. But then I met Chad.

He was a first year medical student and things got serious between us very quickly. We ended up moving in together at the beginning of my junior year, and that's when my plan fell apart.

I already had an associates degree in nursing, and due to mounting bills and a lack of time, both of us being in school just didn't seem to be in the cards, even with my scholarship. So, over the winter break that year I decided I wouldn't return. I took a job at the University Hospital as an RN in the emergency nursing department because they were hiring and the money was good, and I quickly fell in love. The energy was high and I was surrounded by smart people all working to save lives.

So, while Chad continued through school I worked in the hospital and grew my skill set. Chad graduated last May and we moved to DC so he could begin his residency at Sibley Memorial Hospital. I quickly found my current position, as an ER nurse at George Washington University Hospital, and I met Joan in orientation. She'd just relocated to DC from New York with her fiance, Sam. We immediately hit it off. Now, we both work the same shift on the trauma teams and I feel like I've known her my whole life.

I pop the top off of the salad I've purchased and sigh. This spinach has seen better days, but I'm hungry and none of the other options in the cafeteria are much better so I tear the corner of the balsamic dressing pouch and dive in anyway. We usually don't eat this late, but it's been a busy day and Joan and I both submitted for overtime. I could use the money and she's trying to curry favor so the other doctors will cover for her while she's on her honeymoon.

"So how's the rest of it going?" I ask, gesturing to the canvas tote bag that Joan uses to haul her wedding planning information around and picking up a bridal magazine to flip through.

"It's going, I suppose. I just feel like there's so much to do. I'm worried that I'm going to miss something. Couple that with the fact that my mother has invited half the free world and Sam's guest list includes the First Family and I'm… a little overwhelmed."

Why she, with her considerable resources, didn't hire a wedding planner is absolutely beyond me, but it seems useless to point that out now.

"What can I do to help," I ask, stabbing a slice of tomato onto my fork and holding it up to examine. Of all days to forget my lunchbox.

"Oh, nothing. I just needed to vent." She tears the lid off of her fat free Yoplait and gives it a disappointed look as I continue to stare at her. I know her well enough to know she's full of it, and this isn't the end of the conversation.

So I just wait a bit, arching my eyebrow and staring at her.

"But if you're not busy on Thursday, Sam's out of town and my invitations are supposed to be here and I need to stuff 304 envelopes."

And there it is.

"Kay." I nod my head, making a mental note to stop for a bottle of wine on the way. She's going to need it. "I'll be there at 4."

I flip to the next page in the magazine and hesitate for a moment, looking at a particularly beautiful wedding gown that they're trying to sell.

"Oh," she leans over to get a better look at the page. "You'd look incredible in that."

"I'm not in the market," I tell her, turning the page to see a giant engagement ring, which prompts me to close the magazine and sigh a little more than I'd intended.

"Ok, spill your guts." She leans forward and crosses her arms, glaring at me. It's a move that she claims she'd mastered by the third grade. And considering the fact that she stems from a family of overachievers, I don't doubt her. Now it's apparently my turn to be honest.

"No real changes, I suppose," I admit to her. Joan knows the ins and outs of my relationship with Chad which has, over the course of the last two weeks, deteriorated significantly. Things were great when we first moved in together, or at least they seemed great. Maybe that was just the way I wanted to see things. But they started to fall apart after that. He stayed out late and became somewhat indifferent to me, but he kept telling me it was just the stress of school. So when he graduated and took the job here, I thought things would get better.

They haven't. In fact, they're worse.

Joan is the kind of friend that doesn't hesitate to make her opinions known to those around her, but she has this ability to do so without making you feel bad. So, yes, I'm well aware of her dislike for Chad. She'd never make me feel bad about the person I'm dating, or even make underhanded remarks. But she's not going to let me make what she determines to be a bad decision without at least making her opinion known. And quite frankly, I love her for it.

"Is that all I get?" Joan looks at my quizzically. "No real changes?"

"I mean, it's not like I'm just dying to get married, but I'd like to think that my relationship is at least moving in that direction."

"Hmmm." Is all she says as she looks into her yogurt cup again. When you get a non-response from Joan Lyman it's because she's already made her point known on the topic at hand, and you're both well aware of her disapproval.

"I know." I sigh. "But I think things will be better when money isn't so tight and I can go back to school."

"Hope so." She tells me, though she doesn't sound any more confident than I feel on the matter.

I check my watch and rub my eyes, trying to pull myself together before heading back upstairs to finish out the shift. Joan gathers her binder to follow as we both discard our trash into the bins.

"You'd still look great in that dress," she offers as we step onto the elevator. "It's the man that would be standing across from you that needs an upgrade."