Troll

So I work with a troll. I'm sure you all recall stories from your childhood about a troll who lived under a bridge. Well she's gotten a day job at my pharmacy... bridge prices are just as crazy as house prices in Regina these days!

Its not so much that she's a bad person, but she stinks. She smells like if I put out a dozen cigarettes in a can of rotten fish. And then that can of butts didn't bathe since the late 90's.

She was hired because all of our good staff left for better pay, which I don't fault them for, but we were so hard up that we hired the first thing that came in. Actually, thats not true, the first two resumes we got were from our benzo addicted patients - no thank you.

Still, this troll has zero work ethic (I have a degree that exempts me from sweeping floors, whats her excuse?) and has the nerve to complain about how we work her so hard. But its the coughing that really drives me nuts. She hacks her lungs up at least 25 times per shift. And she hates me because I don't talk to her.

So my gracious manager has been keeping me on different shifts than her for the past few months, which I'm very thankful for. However, my manager hates her coughing and hacking and wheezing as much as I do and confronted her the other day.

Manager: You wouldn't be coughing so bad if you quit smoking you know.
Troll: Oh, its not my smoking... I've really cut back, its just that certain smells bother me.
M: Oh really, what sorts of smells.
T: Well certain odors, or perfumes.... sometimes the customers smell and it makes me cough
M: What about when you're back here counting pills? No one has any smells.
T: Well, Mike has a smell about him... it really makes me sick.

Yes... the woman who smells like a poorly maintained manure pile has the audacity to accuse me of stinkage! To hell with her, I say. I had, up till now, maintained an air of professionalism with her and just ignored her unintelligent babble and laziness but now I'm gonna turn up the bitch.

I'm just trying to come up with a stinging commentary on her 'badly cut' mullet that can be delivered as a one liner. I'm open to suggestions.

F*cking Cold

So, as you may or may not have noticed, its f*cking cold out. (I don't know why I used the * in place of the u because I normally use the f word like a hooker uses crack on this blog).

I just got in from a walk in the blustery weather that has graced our fair capital city as of late. It is -23 degrees (Celsius for you American folk) but feels like -33 with the wind chill. I don't know how they figure out what it 'feels like' although I'm sure there's a completely logical explanation. However, I don't care. I imagine it goes something like this.

Scientist #1: How cold is it out there?
Scientist #2: I dunno, its fucking cold, probably about -33 degrees.
Scientist #1: Eureka!

And they do it with snotty British accents and instead of saying 'minus thirty three' they would say 'negative thirty three'. You know how they are.

So anyway, I just about froze my face off. However I'm not as bitter about winter yet as I was last year around this time. I think its because I'm living downtown and seeing all the big ol' trees that look all pretty in the winter time. Small things like that get me through.

Moral of the story... if you want to just about die because you've underdressed like a moron but yet still feel the need to walk far enough way from your house that you know you might not make it back alive yet still want to be amazed at the beauty that is winter, then walk through Regina. We have it all!