wake-up call

This morning, at a not-normally-fit-for-hooligans-except-those-who-never-made-it-to-bed hour, I was awoken to the sound of a significant conflict on the street below. Sadly, after closer inspection, it was not Robbie and Clive in a stipped-down/oiled-up version of the Hugh/Colin/Bridget Jones Man Fight duking it out to see who gets to take me on a yachting vay-cay through the Greek Islands. I don't know what the hoo-ha was about but after catching a glimpse of who was involved, "greasy" is not necessarily a bad adjective.
In more disconcerting news, my wake-up call also came in the form of stabbing and unrelenting pain in the Lower Right Quadrant. Standing is difficult. I'm willing it to go away...
...where IS the closest Emergency Room?
In OTHER NEWS, PUCK dinner, me, BH90210, and lots of wine...one week!
Provided I'm not in the hospital from this minor can't-stand-up-nor-hardly-move-in-any-way throbbing pain...

Post-Blog: Reporting in fron work, 2 hours later, potential hernia/burst appendix/severe muscle strain seems to be abating, if not gone all together...