Sick Co-workers. Thankfully an employee who I nicknamed "Typhoid Michelle" isn't in today. Starting last week, she was walking around the office with a cough so horrendous, I seriously told her I would do whatever it took to get her out of the office. Her work, drive her home, whatever. It was that bad. On Wednesday I diagnosed her with walking pneumonia. On Friday I was convinced she had no idea she was at work, that she was so delirious, she thought she was at home in bed. Anyway, she insisted on sticking around and I asked her (I thought it was pretty funny, but you might think I'm really mean) if she wouldn't prefer to die at home. She laughed pretty hard at that, which prompted quite a coughing spell. Anyway, my point is, please stay home when you're really sick unless you've used all your sick days for hangovers, interviews, or nooners with your married boyfriend. You'll be doing America a favor.
Gerald Ford and James Brown are dead to me. And also to the rest of the world apparently. I'm spilling a little of my diet coke on the floor of my cube right now in their respective honors. I walked around Christmas weekend asking people if Fidel Castro died. I had some weird vibe that he bit it, so I think he's going to be next.
Is anyone working this week? There was no one on my bus yesterday, which was kind of nice. But it reminded me of the days when I took the week off between Christmas and New Year's. I never stayed in my hometown the whole time, I'd come back and shop, drink alone, go to museums, movies, make crazy resolutions, and play with my new Barbies. Good times.
I'm going to save a TON on sweet marjoram. A couple of Saturdays ago, Rusty called me to see what I was up to. "I'm planting my Chia Herb Garden. It's kind of hard." I replied, completely serious. This shit is actually growing, and you wouldn't believe how fast cilantro comes up. Does anyone know what you'd put sweet marjoram in? Email me if you have a sec.