My officemate has strep throat. She called in sick yesterday, but she came in this morning to conduct an interview.
I get amusingly squirmy when I work alongside sick people. I don’t mind it when my wife is sick, and can hang out with sick friends (though I try to keep my distance.) But when a co-worker is sick, I can barely even look at them lest invisible illness rays penetrate my eyeballs and infect my system. I tried not to sound too hopeful when I asked after her interview was done, “So — you going home now?”
She did go home, which is a relief. All morning I felt like Tony Shalhoub in Monk.
Which, by the way, turns out to be a hell of a show. My only complaint is that I (normally an idjit when it comes to mysteries) can solve the crime within the first ten minutes of an episode. But the main pleasure of the series comes from watching Monk do his thing, so it’s only a small complaint.
Wade Rockett 