I Love Paris in the Springtime…

… but I absolutely HATE my office in the fall.  That’s because by now, everybody’s used up all their sick time, so when they get the Death Plague, THEY COME IN ANYWAY!  Wagging their germs behind them.

I, being isolated in my own little room very early in the morning, am usually safe from their diseases… but then I was stupid.  The receptionist asked me to print something out from her computer Friday morning (yes, the computers are still so fucked up I couldn’t access the file from here)… and I did it.

I only remembered when I woke up basically zombified Monday morning — that bitch had been snottin’ and snortin’ around all week!  And I touched her filthy keyboard AND her grody phone!  So, yeah, I gave myself the plague, which pisses me off, ’cause I had plans  this weekend and now everything’s up in the air!

Unless people just wanna come hang out with me while I sit on the toilet…

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32 Comments

Filed under La Vida Loca, Reality Bites, SCIENCE!, White Man's Medicine, WTF???, Youse Guys

32 responses to “I Love Paris in the Springtime…

  1. I will come hang with you on the toilet…but only if we can clip coupons together. 😉

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  2. I’ll pass you notes under the door if you want.

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  3. Was wondering what happened to you. I don’t like it when you drop off the face of the planet.

    Get better soon chica. And stop touching grody people’s stuff. Only bad things can come of it.

    Do you need me to bring you some extra TP?

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    • I’m set for now — one thing Dear Sweet Mama was ADAMANT about in her child-raising was the rule that you buy toilet paper EVERY TIME you go to the store, whether you’re low or not, because the minute you DON’T — dysentery.

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  4. And I am all, “is that a sniffle? Maybe? An excuse to call in? HELL YES.” I don’t care if I am out of sick time.

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  5. Attend your plans virtually and set up a webcam in the toilet. Then you find out who your real friends are.

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  6. Potty on!!!

    (Feel better.)

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  7. We have unlimited sick time, which you would think would keep people from coming in but you’d be wrong. Right now we have been told that no one is to be sick because we have six people out for surgeries, serious illness or sick family. The funny thing? I feel horrible this morning and I’m never sick; I want to go home.

    Feel better. You have just enough time to get better and enjoy the weekend – and feel guilty about not being at work all week but still getting a weekend…

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  8. As tempting as this offer is…I’ll pass. Sorry to hear you have the plague. I share your disdain of people who come to work dragging their snot with them. I’m one of those people who stays home if I even think I may be ill with no visible proof other than I don’t want to get out of bed. 🙂 Well I used too, until relieved of duty and retired 🙂

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  9. I’ll use any excuse to lay about and eat junk food, so I’ll join you. Just not on the toilet (unless you have a two-seater). I’m thinking couch, with occasional pilgrimages to the toilet? No?

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  10. I can sing off key to you to help muffle the sounds coming out of the bathroom, if you like.

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  11. When you’re not feeling like a plague-infested zombie, I think you should Lysol the hell out of her desk. Give her some dead flowers, with a card that says “thanks for practically killing me with your funk. Sure am glad I didn’t have plans for the rest of my life, or anything.”

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  12. Yikes. I remember the office atmosphere all too well. I hope to be able to forget it as time passes.

    Feel better soon!

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  13. Jen

    I’m spending most of the month on the road doing classroom observations so it’s only a matter of time before one of those oozing little cervix-droppings gives me typhus or some shit like that. Blecch…

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  14. Just take this as an opportunity to lie around on the toilet, watch some trashy daytime tv, and eat junk food and soup.

    Hmmm. Maybe I can’t just take my standard advice and substitute “toilet” for “couch”.

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  15. All the bitches come in sick here and hack and cough their nasty bitch germs everywhere. I’d like to push the whole lot of them down an elevator shaft.

    Yes, I love my job, why do you ask?

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