Thursday, July 25, 2013

"The Patient Died of Food Poisoning... and MURDER!"

"I've still got some stuff to do," I say. My stomach is rioting, my joints ache, I'm exhausted, and I desperately want to go home, but I still feel vaguely obligated.

"Think of it this way," my boss says. "If you're infectious, I don't want you here, and if you get me sick, I'll kill you."

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