Wednesday, July 25

The Arctic Waste of my Fly-Drenched Soul

This is what I do at work:

I'm totally kidding. Actually, normally what I do at work is jump around like an idiot screaming curse words and trying to smash flies with a clipboard. At least lately. My usual monk-like poise goes straight out the window. I do this for hours sometimes. There are hundreds of flies lying around the Centre in various poses of death right now, mainly because I keep inadvertently locking the cleaning ladies out but also because they are taunting me (the flies, not the cleaning ladies). Their deaths have little to do with my clipboard-wielding-and-cussing techniques (unless they died laughing, but I don't think flies can do that).


What is happening here is that they zip around at supersonic speeds for a few days irritating the hell out of me and avoiding my mighty clipboard until they are elderly. Then they drop dead on the floor blargh where they stick to my shoes and gross me out, thereby taunting me even in death.

I can't believe they can survive in the frigid arctic wasteland that is my office anyway. It's got to be 55 degrees in there on a good day. I'm surprised I can survive. I bundle up to go to work. Often I wear two shirts and a sweater. When I get to work, I have an additional big green blankety sweater than I wrap tightly around my poor shivering body all day long unless I have to go to the bathroom. It's a long walk through the great, steamy outdoors to get to the ladies' room. And because I have to keep a steaming hot beverage of some sort nearby at all times for warmth, I find myself making that journey fairly frequently.

When nature sounds its sometimes alarming bugle, I first remove the big green sweater. Off comes the less bulky sweater I brought from home. Sometimes, if it's a really nice hot day, I even shuck off the top layer of shirts. Down to a tank top, if I was on the right ball when I got dressed that morning. To combat the cold, I swat a few flies on my way to the door.

Well, at least the Fly Wars keep me warm. Or maybe it's the air conditioning that's keeping me cool.

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