My desk is going to file a work comp claim of its own one of these days. I’m forcing it to hold more than anybody else’s desk, except maybe this one woman on the other side of the office. That’s a continuous trauma for excess loadbearing, and a psyche claim for unequal treatment by a superior. But it’s not going to win…..it attacked me first. Just stuck out its drawer and took a chunk out of my shin. And I’d like to meet the attorney who can get a desk to rebut my testimony that I never hit it…….
Category: General
Yeah, it’s sorta like that.
Kelly: “I’m about to blow up my desk right now.”
Me: “Yeah, but do you want to be sitting at it at the time?”
Work sucks, but the quotes are good.
Bringer of Doom!
Mwa ha ha! Guilty as charged.
Beware the summer cold, my dear,
The nose that blows, the throat that hacks!
Beware the Sudafed, and fear
The Kleenex pocket packs!
….And now for some lemon tea. *snif*
Doom!
It’s a strange feeling, when someone you live with gets sick, and you know, just know that in a week, two weeks at the most, you’re next. I’m not looking forward to coughing, sneezing, and living on Ny-Quil, although spending the day in bed sounds nice…