Green Acres is full of lifers and union people. There are an allotted bajillion personal, sick, and vacation days each year for every single being in the building.
Yet, there are inevitably people who show up to work sick as dogs. Not just for one day, like they were worse the day before and think themselves just too important to miss a day, but for days at a time.
Coughing, sneezing, blowing, spitting, slurping, sniffing, speaking to you, entering your cube, handing you things, touching things.
When did life become rocket science?
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