It's always interesting to see how public emotions can so easily be whipped into a frenzy. Swine flu has been making the rounds in the press for the last couple of months or so. Schools are ready to close at a moments notice, people are immediately suspicious of someone who sneezes and you think twice about putting yourself in public situations.
Of course, if you follow the stats, about three people have unfortunately died so far from the strain. However, this past winter season many thousands died from the regular flu and there was not even mention about that. Perhaps, it's the name - Swine. Sounds nasty and makes for a good headline.
The hysteria still carries on and today our mailroom guy made the rounds to everyone's desks with a box filled with Sani-Gel and a little flyer on how hygiene can help save my life.
I love the smell of these antibacterials. The real good ones smell like a gin and tonic. Those, I don't mind using, even though overuse of this stuff can make the bacteria more resistant and stronger.
I thought it was quite funny that the company was spending money on this and handing them out to everyone. Do they really care about my well being? Or, do they just want to make sure I don't miss work? I think the latter. I mean, they only clean the bathrooms once a week and that place is regular germ factory. They don't bother filling the soap dispensers when they run out or keeping enough of those paper toilet covers in stock, but they're content to hand each of us bottle of clear gel as if this will protect us.
I guess I should be grateful for what I was given. This poor bank had already weathered so much during these unprecedented economic times. While they had already lost shareholder value and needed to be propped up by continued government funding, the last thing they would want to lose is me.
As I held the Sani-Gel in my hand, I tried to think which would be a better - rubbing it on my hands or just popping open the top and drinking it.
The way things have been going a nice stiff Sani-Gel and Tonic could hit the spot.
When it comes down to it, we’re all just gonna be some skin and bones left on this so-called plate of life. It’s pure hell if you think about it.
And lately, I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. You see, I’m convinced that I’m already dead and this is hell.
That’s been my mantra for a while. I know it’s not too uplifting, believe me I know.
What brought me to this dismal conclusion? That’s what this blog is about - a collection of stories, examples, proofs, etc., that show without hesitation that I’m already dead and this is hell.
But don’t let me take the limelight. I know after you read some of these entries, you’ll find examples in your own “life” that will enable that light bulb to pop on and help you explain the inexplicable. You’ll soon realize that WE'RE already dead and living uncomfortably together in hell. So please, feel free to send me your stories, or just browse through mine. As Freud said, “It’s therapeutic, Mrs. Pappenheim.”