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And Isn’t It Ironic… Don’t You Think?

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Here is some irony for you:
A girl at work has conjunctivitis or “pink eye” if you will.
For the last three days, I have run around Lysoling (eff you spellcheck that is too a word) her desk, calling her to tell her to stay home for one more day (“I don’t care what your doctor said!!”) and declaring to anyone who will listen, “If I get pink eye and my contacts get ruined, I’m invoicing her!!!”
Then, this afternoon, I was in my office, switching from wearing glasses to contacts so I could go work out. And that’s when I dropped my contact.
On.The.Floor. 
On the carpet- at work. The carpet that gets vacuumed never minus a day. (I know this because I crushed a wheat square cereal on the floor under my desk last week and its remains are still there)
The carpet that gets more foot traffic than Grand Central Station. Walked on by shoes that have stepped in dirt, gum, dog shit, mad cow disease, homeless people’s pee and God only knows what else. (Hey, these are my coworkers we’re talking about- I don’t know where they hang out. Actually, I do. Add some puke from Vegas to that list. And maybe the tears of a dead hooker.)
And then, I picked that contact up off the floor- and I had no choice:
I put it IN.MY.EYE.
After all that freaking out about pink eye, and I basically took some syphilis and rubbed it in my eyeball.
Well, ain’t that just the way life goes….
Like this post? Please share it! Thanks for reading ~Tracy
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