Friday, 1 June 2012

I Smell the Smelly Smell of Something That Smells

Switching back to work again, people, although it's really just variations on a theme at this point. Nothing new or fresh, just my on-going fascination and stupefaction at people's attention needs and the lengths to which they will go to meet them.

We have blissfully been spared the annoying presence of Teeth partially (get it? Teeth=partial? Yeah?), as on Thursday morning, she bundled her child off to stay with her aunt while Teeth is meeting someone (probably a driver) in Saskatchewan for a hook up. She was not exactly explicit about this being a fuckcation, but she didn't bother denying it when I wished her a good time on her weekend of depravity. Although, come to think of it, she may have been thrown off by the complexity of the word "depravity". I maybe should have just said, "Have good fucking" and stuck with that.

Anyway, there's a burr under every saddle, and this week, it's been Eeyore. You may recall that last week, she bolted from the office when she smelled some kind of solvent and took the rest of the week off as a result. (And by the way, have I mentioned that Eeyore smokes? How can someone that sensitive to smells smoke and still survive?) Now, to be fair, unlike Yvette, Eeyore takes her computer with her and works from home. It's when she comes back to the office that the circus begins.

The office was painted last weekend, on Friday night. And it wasn't the whole place, just the ladies washroom and a couple of the manager's offices. Eeyore, learning of this in advance, took her computer home and didn't return until Wednesday morning. And I can tell you that there was no smell of paint on Monday when I got to work.

But perhaps I am just insensitive (!!!say it aint so!!!), because when Eeyore walked in the door on Wednesday, she paused at the reception desk, and, as Princess Anne looked on in disbelief, sniffed the air tentatively. She then continued to her desk.

Alas, Eeyore's return to work was premature, because she spent the rest of the day snivelling and sighing extravagantly. On Thursday, she shuffled into the staff room where Jacques and I were discussing the relative merits of bagels.

"'Ow are you?" he asked her.

"Crappy, thanks for asking," she replied and returned to her desk.

Jacques looked at me and said, "I tell you, being married to a woman like dat..." and he held his fingers to his temple in imitation of a pistol and pulled the trigger.

But he should try sitting in her pod. At one point, Eeyore was sitting with her head in her hands, her hair cascading over her face. When asked if she was alright, her dramatic response was, "My entire body is shutting down."

Insert rolling of eyes here. Bitch, please. You are overstating the case. For you to claim that your body is shutting down is akin to me finding bacon stips in my underpants and telling everyone that I shat the house. Seriously: exaggeration is for comedians and caricaturists: anyone else is a drama queen.

Anyway, I'm starting to think that Eeyore is a hypochondriac, because today at my desk, she got Princess Anne to feel her forehead.

"Are you feverish?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Well, maybe you should go home," said Princess Anne. "Technically, if you're feverish, you're contagious."

"No," said Eeyore, gloomily. "I have an infection."

And then she intimated that the infection is in her hoohaw.

Head/desk. Repeat as necessary.


batgirl said...

Well, at least that means the danger of direct infection is zero.

One of my co-workers, who has all sorts of health problems, was given a damaged book in a ziploc, so she could order a replacement. She took the wet mouldy book _out_ of the ziploc and put it on her booktruck so she could take the data from its title page instead of looking it up from the call number visible on its spine.
I had to inform her that mould is a health hazard and she shouldn't be handling the book.
Yet she worries whenever funny smells waft over from the Chem building across the way.

Maven said...

PS: If the infection is in her hoohaw, wouldn't that constitute an inFUCKtion?