Lawrence Of Euphoria
Finally think I'm shaking this. Yesterday was the first day that I managed to get through a day at work without having to leave the floor to blow my nose every ten minutes. Now it's only 30 minutes, which is about average with me working a normal day under healthier circumstances. I'm pretty much allergic to work anyway. Wait, not allergic to WORK work. Well, okay I'm that too. I mean I'm allergic to where I work. Longtime readers of the old blog may remember how I've detailed the unsanitary conditions of my work place over the years. Our building is very old and the plumbing still runs on an antiquated septic tank system -- the tank itself located in the floor of the break room in the back of the store. Several times that tank has, well, for lack of a better word, exploded and overflowed like a tidal wave out of the break room and out onto the main store floor. Again, I say that this has happened several times.
And for all the instances in which this has happened, how many times do any of you think that we have either cleaned or changed the carpets? Go on and try to guess. Just tke a wild stab at it...
Bingo. Nada.
I've never been allergic to mold, but I am certain that what keeps most of that work in that store as sick as we always are is attributed to the unholy... funk that must be growing beneath our feet. I don't even try to look down at the carpet and all it's brown, swirly stains because just thinking about it makes me throw up in my mouth just a little bit... ick, like right now. Sorry, chums. I'll back off this topic as gracefully as I entered it. And of course I'm with all the delicate grace of a rollerskating giraffe.
I put Cannonball Adderley's Mercy Mercy Mercy up on my employee pick this week. By the way, Nat and Cannonball's cousin comes into our store about once a week. He's retired navy and pretty much just built his home out here. All the mornings when I would greet him with a cheery "How are you doing today, Mr. Adderley?" I never would have even thought about that until Tracy told me that he told him. Of course last names don't mean anything. I once told somebody I worked with that my cousin was V.C. Andrews and he went around for almost a year thinking that my last name was assumably Andrews (which it isn't).
And for all the instances in which this has happened, how many times do any of you think that we have either cleaned or changed the carpets? Go on and try to guess. Just tke a wild stab at it...
Bingo. Nada.
I've never been allergic to mold, but I am certain that what keeps most of that work in that store as sick as we always are is attributed to the unholy... funk that must be growing beneath our feet. I don't even try to look down at the carpet and all it's brown, swirly stains because just thinking about it makes me throw up in my mouth just a little bit... ick, like right now. Sorry, chums. I'll back off this topic as gracefully as I entered it. And of course I'm with all the delicate grace of a rollerskating giraffe.
I put Cannonball Adderley's Mercy Mercy Mercy up on my employee pick this week. By the way, Nat and Cannonball's cousin comes into our store about once a week. He's retired navy and pretty much just built his home out here. All the mornings when I would greet him with a cheery "How are you doing today, Mr. Adderley?" I never would have even thought about that until Tracy told me that he told him. Of course last names don't mean anything. I once told somebody I worked with that my cousin was V.C. Andrews and he went around for almost a year thinking that my last name was assumably Andrews (which it isn't).
I'm feeling very well today. Very not contagious. Who wants to make out with me?
Er, anyone? Anyone?
:::crickets:::
posted by Melissa at 11:16 AM
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