Well, let's see. After the hair and makeup people are done, the TV crew follows me around all day. They annoy me and it's hard to fit the camera guy in my car with all the other stuff, but we manage. Sometimes the boom mic falls into my sterile field during a dressing change and I yell, but I think they do it on purpose for the drama. After work, we get dressed up and dine at whatever is the "in" five-star restaurant of the week, and Gordon Ramsey usually shows up at some point. That guy <rolls eyes>, sheesh, whatta mouth! After some time spent clubbing--never waiting in line, dahling--we mosey on home and I get my nightly full-body massage, hoping that Sven the Masseur isn't a paparazzi in disguise. After I'm bathed, perfumed, and powdered, I spend the rest of the night in silk sheets, listening to carefully prepared, motivational subliminal recordings: "I'm glad I'm a nurse. I enjoy helping people. Everyone is useful. Even doctors provide a service."