At this point, I'm well aware that the coronavirus is running rampant all over the world. Just this past month I watched as it made its landing in the United States. I witnessed mass hysteria overwhelming the American people across the country. At first, I was one of the few that didn't let the plague of catching the plague take over my thoughts. “It's not even as dangerous as the flu,” I surmised. “It's barely spreading in the US,” I reassured myself.
Then it happened. On Monday at our morning debrief, Kevin sneezed all over our freshly-cleaned conference table. It was an innocent, petulant little noise but a sneeze transmitting hundreds of thousands of virulent little germs nonetheless. Next thing I know, Janet in accounts payable is sniffling while clinging to a box of Kleenex like her life depends on it. I don't mean to be dramatic, but it was in this moment that I was certain my life was in danger. There was no doubt about it, the coronavirus had taken its fierce grip on my office.
All of us at Schuster and Schuster Law were in mortal peril.
I, being, the upstanding citizen that I am, marched into our administrative office to demand a complete shutdown and quarantine of our office. I was appalled to find David, our manager who had just returned from being out of the office for a full five days with his visage completely transformed. His skin, once pale and pathetic, is now blistering and red. He says he got a “nasty case of sunburn” from his “trip to Hawaii,” but I'm no idiot. I can tell that he too is suffering from the life-altering effects of the coronavirus and just hiding it so he doesn’t have to take non-paid time off.
Today, Cheryl, our receptionist, told me all about how her son came home last Friday night puking. She suspects he's started drinking but at this point, there is no way his yacking isn't connected to the coronavirus. Cheryl must be an asymptomatic carrier of this dreaded bug. I'm sure she brought the illness home from our office that is facing an absolute pandemic at this point.
Worst of all, my office bestie and the greatest goddamn accountant you’d ever meet, Denise, has succumbed to this vicious infection. Just moments ago she changed her RSVP for our happy hour from “yes” to “no.” Trust me CDC, there is no way Denise would ever bail on me if she were in the right state of mind. I know Denise better than anyone in the world. I know she lives for her after work margs with me, her “work wifey.” The fact that she canceled on me must be because she has contracted the coronavirus and is suffering from the classic “mood-altering mania” symptom that so often gets underreported.
At this point, I refuse to return to my office until I’m sure it is clear of any and all coronaviruses. Please send those handsome men in hazmat suits to restore my workplace back to its natural state. My life, my colleagues’ lives, and a most sacred office friendship depends on it.
Karen in HR