Day 10 of Death by Caroling; Life stinks
I stink. It’s not even ten o’clock in the morning, and I stink. I hosed myself down, and I still stink. I offend myself and therefore can imagine how others will react to my presence today. I am pariah, condemned to remain in my office or in the grungier areas of the plant for the next eight hours, stewing in my own stench. I can’t even turn on my space heater to try and dry my clothes out because it just intensifies the odor.
For those who know me: no, this is not another mega-c incident. This is more a situation of being covered with putrification rather than nice clean shit.
Sitting in my office, in my soaking wet clothes, smelling like something the dog wouldn’t even roll in: this is my lot in life for the day. I do not eff-ing believe this.
musical accompaniment: “Silver Bells”. That stinks too.