Whistle while you work

December 7, 2007 at 9:29 pm | Posted in sick | 3 Comments

Management tries to keep us happy at work. Yesterday, we all received a homemade gingerbread cookie. They give us prizes, awards, and buttons.

Happy employees work harder, it’s proven.

But when you’ve got the makings of a bad cold, like I do, no amount of cheer makes our job easier. We talk on the phone for eight hours a day.

Sometimes this is a hard feat even without a cold.

My throat is scratchy and I’ve got a dry cough and — People, I just don’t want to talk to you today. Especially because it is snowing out and frigidly cold in this office.

Sean is at Universal Studios tonight. He says it is seventy degrees out and he is wearing short sleeves. He keeps sending me picture messages of all of the fun he is having:

And although I’m a little jealous that I am stuck in bed nursing my cold on a Friday night in a snowstorm while he is in the tropics riding coasters, it could be much worse:

…I could be on the phone.

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  1. ‘Making babies’ of course Lauren! that’s what I was doing, gosh did you not get any ‘birds and the bees’ schooling over there?

    Of course I joke, I was only helping Tony pump and the boat ready for the raft race, I was Shrek with my Shreketts and we got rather wet in the choppy old sea.

    I hope you are well (even though you have a cold, I told you to wear that woolly vest when you go out!)

    It looks like you and Sean are getting on just fine and marriage is on the horizon hey!

    Oh, well, it’s Saturday and I am helping to make a Norman ‘castle for Toby’s school homework, 1066 and all that.

    Do you know about 1066 when all these Frenchy guys called Normans came on a day trip to England and whipped out butts because King Harold was up in York and by the time he got down south to the coast he was rather knacked (the planes being on strike on that particular day meant he had to walk the few hundred miles or more).

    And when he got there someone said “look up at that pwitty birdy Harold” and as he did some Frenchy guy shot an arrow in to his eye and because there were no paramedics to hand he died.

    All the Frenchy guys had a right old boogie on down on the beach that night along with a BBQ and Karaoke but the English guys told them ‘It was not fair’ and that they were ‘telling on them’ for killing their best friend Harold and that they could stick their party bags up their backsides.

    And that is why I am stuck in doors making this fu****g Norman castle when I could be in the pub getting drunk (I do not really mind because he is my son and that is what Daddies do and if you do get married to Sean then you may want to have kids and you may have to sit down one day and make a replica of the Boston Tea party when you Americanies whipped our English butts too.

    I have typed too much and now I have a headache which must be all your fault Lauren but I will forgive you because I know that you are going to send me your Nikon camera as a Christmas gift which will be really groovy of you.

    I think that this is the biggest comment I have written to anybody in my whole life apart from when I wrote a fifteen page letter to the sugar puff puff cereal company complaining that the free plastic turtle toy that I got with the packet had an extra piece of poorly positioned plastic from when the mold had been cut away and my sister said it was a pee pee.

    That’s it! I’m off….bye

  2. PS. This is why I love you Martin. Crazy cool and all that jazz.

  3. Sean is or rather was not very far from my house if he was at Universal Studios in Orlando. I’ve been there quite a few times….and I hope he had fun. We go a few times a year as we have yearly passes. After the fifth time you really start to tire of it…but the first time….amazing fun.


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