This is the job that, when I walked out at 5am one morning, I said I would rather roll in broken glass and let a rabid dog lick my wounds before I would come back.
I'm surprised, because I'm actually envious of her. On some levels.
I miss how much fun I had there, how great it was to "hold up the service counter" (i.e., stand around and talk). I don't miss the bullshit politics, but it was a moment in my life that I wouldn't take back for anything. I've written about it before in this post.
Good luck, Steph. Just remember the lessons we've already paid for in blood.