The crying was bad enough, but the hiccups and the whining made Meredith want to take out the eight year old boy. She had been doing stitches after stitches all morning and this boy, whose name Meredith couldn't recall, cut his leg open when he tripped down his stairs outside his home. His mother, Mrs. Tate, was hovering. Meredith hated hovering.

"That's going to scar, isn't it?" Mrs. Tate asked, dangerously close as Meredith continued to stitch up the boy's leg.

"Nah... it will barely be noticeable." Meredith replied, hoping the mother would back away.

"Mommy, it hurts!" the Tate boy wailed and the hiccuped. Loudly.

"Couldn't you be gentler?" Mrs. Tate suggested to Meredith, who merely put on a smile that was too kind and continued stitching.

Little boy Tate stopped crying and looked at his leg, "I don't like blood. It makes me sick."

"Then, don't look at it." Meredith replied, a little too harshly and then added, softer, "Why don't you think about something else? Talk to your mom and don't look at the blood."

"Look at momma, Johnny." the mother clapped her hands.

'Does she think her kid's a dog?' Meredith rolled her eyes. She was thankful that she was almost done.

A mass of chaos sounded softly and grew louder until it burst into the emergency room. A man, bloodied, broken, and bruised, was wheeled in on a stretcher, surrounded by paramedics, nurses, and a doctor. Meredith glanced over quickly, trying to figure out what had happened to the man and hoping to get pulled on the case.

"Mommy!" Johnny exclaimed, looking at the man on the stretcher.

Meredith looked up at the boy just in time to pull away as the boy began to vomit. Meredith closed her eyes as Cherrios and milk reigned down on part of her hair and shoulder, and then began to drip down her lab coat. Johnny began to cry harder as his mother tried to soothe him. Meredith stood up slowly. A passing intern stopped next to her.

"Oh, jeez." he said looking from the puke to the boy to the almost completed stitch job, "Do you want me to finish for you?"

"Yeah." Meredith replied stiffly and walked out, careful to avoid any vomit from shifting and relocating.

Meredith walked to the closest bathroom as quickly as possible. She pulled off her lab coat and shoved it into one of the two sinks. With a frown on her face, she moved to the other sink and turned the water on. She leaned into the sink and let the water run over her hair.

Turning off the water, Meredith stood up, one eye closed for fear of getting water in it. She walked over to the paper towel dispenser and took a few sheets. She wrapped them around her wet hair, hoping to squeeze out some of the water.

"Grey."

Meredith looked towards the door and saw Miranda standing there with her hands on her hips. Meredith froze and gave a pathetic smile.

"I'm not even going to ask what you're doing." Miranda said, "I just came to tell you to take your lunch now because I have somethin' for you to do after."

"Okay." Meredith replied and Miranda left.

Meredith's face gave way to an annoyed expression as she threw away the paper towels and gathered her lab coat from the sink. She exited the bathroom and headed to the elevator. She eventually made her way back to the locker room and took out an extra lab coat, which she kept in her locker just in case, before heading to the cafeteria.

The lunch line was short and Meredith grabbed a tray. She realized why the line was short when she saw the food that looked more unappetizing than usual. Meredith settled on an egg salad sandwich, a bag of pretzels, and an apple. She paid for her lunch and walked over to the table where Cristina and Alex were sitting, eating.

Meredith dropped her tray on the table and plopped down in her chair. Alex cocked an eyebrow and looked at her.

"What's your problem?" Alex asked and took a swig of soda. His face cringed, "And what's that smell?"

"I was puked on." Meredith answered, flat toned.

"Seriously?" Cristina cracked a smile, but Meredith's glare made it vanish, "I mean, that sucks. Do you know what I was doing? Craniotomy. Nothing like fresh brain in the morning."

Meredith continued to glare, "That must have been nice."

Alex stood and picked up his tray, "I gotta go. Unlike some people," Alex looked at Meredith, "I'm actually doing surgeries today."

Alex smirked and walked off. Meredith ignored him and picked up half of her egg salad sandwich.

"Bailey's punishing me." Meredith said, agitated, "And she said she has something else in store for me after lunch, which I'm sure isn't surgery."

"That's why I'm never late." Cristina said quickly and ate some of her potato chips.

Meredith bit into her sandwich and stopped, disgusted. Cristina looked at her, puzzled.

"What?" Cristina asked.

Meredith chewed the sandwich in her mouth slowly before picking up her napkin and spitting it out. She threw her sandwich and the napkin down on her tray.

"It has chopped onions in it." Meredith stared at her sandwich and then looked at Cristina, "I hate raw onion."

"Um, sorry?" Cristina offered in an attempt to console.

"Yeah, thanks." Meredith replied and leaned back in her chair, putting her hands over her face, "This day is a disaster."

A beeping sounded and Cristina pulled her pager from her lab coat pocket. She looked at it and quickly put it back in her pocket. She picked up her tray and stood. Meredith lowered her hands and turned her head towards Cristina.

"You're leaving me too?" Meredith asked her.

Cristina opened her mouth, wanting to say something to comfort Meredith, but she had nothing. She promptly closed her mouth, gave an apologetic smile, and walked off. Meredith sat for a minute with a frown on her face and was still frowning when George and Izzy walked over to the table and sat down, both smiling at Meredith.

"Oh no." Meredith shook her head, "I don't want to sit with either of you."

"What did we do?" Izzy asked.

"I was late because I didn't know about the construction and traffic delay." Meredith told them as she stood up, "And neither of you had the decency to call and warn me."

"Sorry, Mer." Izzy apologized with an innocent shrug, "I didn't think you'd have a problem."

"Well, I did." Meredith retorted.

George looked around, confused, "What's that smell?"

Meredith glared at him and then Izzy before walking off in huff, leaving her tray at the table. She had lost her appetite and decided that she should probably get back to Miranda and find out what her next torture was. Meredith wanted to get it over with as soon as possible in the hopes that it would make the day go by faster and make it come to an end sooner.