I’m not sure what date it’s going to say when I post this, now that I think about it, but trust me, it’s still Cinco here. Nope, I didn’t go out tonight. Not only is it a work night, but here in AZ it’s Amateur Night. Not as bad as New Year’s mind you, but it’s probably give St. Patrick’s Day a run for its money (at least around here). I of course am not begrudging anyone their heritage. I just preferred to stay off the roads.

So here’s a question. Why do carrier monkeys who still have sick time left insist on hacking and coughing right next to me at work? I know I can’t really blame anyone else if my immune system is compromised enough to get me sick, but you know what’s really going to top off a whole day of listening to said carrier monkey moaning and groaning, and telling me how miserable she is because she has a cold? No, it’s not my little cough and the carrier monkey saying, “Uh oh! Sounds like someone’s getting sick!” (although it was said with a little too much glee). It’s the carrier monkey asking to see the patch of suspected Shingles I’m concerned about, that horrified look on her face, and the way she said, “Are you sure that’s not ringworm?” Did she really just ask me that? Remember a month ago, Carrier Monkey, when you told me you have ringworm and I told you that you need to go home because it’s really contagious? Yeah, you didn’t go home then either. Thanks. Say, maybe you can bring Hepatitis A to the potluck Friday.

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