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I Work with Howard HughesWord has recently come down from on high that the admin staff must now rotate lunch coverage for the front desk receptionist. Short Round has very testily agreed to the routine since it was her boss that came up with this idea, but, of course, she's put her own freakish twist to it. She insists on using her desk chair only, and, suddenly, she's become germ-phobic. She brings a can of Lysol with her and sprays down the front desk and phone at the start of her shift, and she uses a Kleenex to cover the handset when she has to pick up the phone. I wonder how long her toenails are. I am a bad, naughty girl. I went on a weekend vacation (see if you can guess where). I now see the error of my ways. Surrounding myself with the Happiest people on earth, can only end in shame. I must repent. Seeing those messy, overstuffed faces full of joy. It makes me sick. Children having the time of their little lives, eating ice cream, running in circles till they fall down laughing. Decadent food, candy stores, toys as far as the eye can see, and the colors. Why did no one tell me about the colors? Parents, Grandparents, all getting along! Rollercoasters, parades, fireworks and a blossoming globe that projects the love of humanity in myriad hues. It's too much. I am tainted for life. I can no longer live in this gray, mindless world. Must. find a way back. No. stop. Hail Mary's, like 20 should cleanse me. Or holy water. Or a good, old fashioned exorcism! Ruby slippers? It was only a dream, auntie Em you were there, and you and you too Toto! There's no place like home.... |
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