That’s Just Sick

A lot of my co-workers are sick. Grossly, disgustingly sick. Many heroically came in to work anyway, and with all of the hacking and wheezing the place sounds like a TB ward full of terminal three-pack-a-day smokers. Now, after several days’ continuous exposure I am feeling increasingly light-headed and my nose is clogged, and I suspect that the bastards have given it to me.

There’s a special place in hell for people who get their fellow employees sick the week before a major project milestone is due. It is a damp, vile, moist place filled with used handkerchiefs and the overwhelming smell of Vicks Vap-O-Rub — a mucus-covered hellscape where the TVs are eternally tuned to Honey Boo Boo and the 500 Club.

Click on this fine image for a link to a place to purchase the pillbox it appears on. You know you want it.

The most annoying part of this debacle is the increasing likelihood that I’ll be sick over the weekend, which may stop me from fully enjoying the York Fair, a summer-ending orgy of fried foods and prize-winning farm animals that my wife and I very much look forward to each year.

There are few things more terrifying than the prospect of pitching face-first into a vat of deep-fried Twinkees and waking up covered by napalm-like melted kreemey filling. However, my wonderful wife has worked like a dog this summer and she really deserves a good time, so I’ll likely risk it. We’ll probably miss the REO Speedwagon show this year, though.

Dang.

Being feverish, if not febrile (look it up), I think I’ll skip the usual political maunderings in today’s blog.  It’s all kind of sorry and pathetic anyway, as the increasing inevitability of Romney’s defeat begins to sink in and he and his team get ever-more desperate. His dumb comments on the tragedy in Libya are a perfect example: only a campaign in deep doo-doo would hope to capitalize on a tragedy like this. At this point Romney would be better off just shutting his big mouth and sending everybody in the country half a $20 dollar bill, promising that we’ll get the other half if he’s elected. He and his PAC buddies can afford it.

It’s gonna be a long seven weeks, and with luck I’ll spend most of it in a Nyquil- and Mucinex-induced stupor. Wake me for Obama’s re-election party, willya? In the meantime, send in Nurse Naughty.

Tags: culture, election, fever, flu, humor, Libya, Nurse Naughty, Romney, sickness