It's (S)Not Funny (Okay, Yes, It Sort Of Is)
January 03, 2007
I have not told you yet that I am sick, mostly because it seemed like uninteresting news. Who wants to hear that every time I blow my nose, I could be an actress in a Mucinex commercial?
Or that this morning I was especially proud when I blew my nose and produced a wad about the size of my face? I nearly took it to show Roger, and then remembered that having mucus (ewww!) shoved in your face probably isn't the most thrilling way to be woken up in the morning. Romantic, aren't I?
My voice is hoarse, but not sexy hoarse. I know this because when I asked Roger whether I sound sexy, his reply could not be mistaken for anything other than a big, fat, sodden with disdain, NO. With as much love and tenderness as he could muster, which was a lot, the answer was still decidedly NO.
I've been hacking and coughing at work, but no one really cares that I’M DYING. I know this because the only questions asked of me are, "You're not contaminating those documents, are you?" and "Will you draft a letter to jackass competitor? They're infringing our patents again."
Today I was leaning over my manager's desk, discussing revisions to a contract (gah – sorry, my work is b-o-r-i-n-g) when all of a sudden, from out of NOWHERE, my nose leaked onto his desk. I couldn't prevent it. It just…happened.
Let me repeat that. My nose? IT GUSHED ONTO HIS DESK. And there was this gargantuan drip of my snot on his desk, dangerously close to his pristine crystal glass of iced water.
I stood there for a second, mortified, and then said, "Oh. Sick. … That's really gross. Hold on."
And I dashed out to grab a tissue and an alcohol wipe. Mere seconds later I was in his office again, armed with cleaning supplies, and he had already wiped my snot off his desk using anti-bacterial gel he had on-hand (for such emergencies, apparently).
Reminder: My face oozed onto my direct supervisor's desk. GAH.
And even though he had already cleaned it up, I double-wiped it with alcoholic wipes because (a) I'm anal, (b) they were already open, and (c) I cannot let these go to waste when my snot was frolicking around on my boss' desk!
I am so gross. SO GROSS. How do you possibly recover from that? My voice sounds like a man's, my cough sounds like I'm bringing forth the dead and I just saw goo fall from my face and collect on my director's desk.
I think it's time to go home, y'all.