The following Unsent Letter is dedicated to a special coworker. It's entitled:
GO HOME PHLEGMY!

Seriously, I'm sorry you're feeling bad. But I really don't need you germing up the office. These windows don't open. We're sharing the same recycled air here. And I do NOT want to breathe in whatever mutant germ has caused you to make that sound. It sounds like one of those cars in the old Disney cartoons is at the desk beside me, coughing and sputtering. Not to mention the insessant sniffling. Blow your nose, dude. BUT NOT IN HERE, GROSS.
And now comes the spitting. That's right, the spitting. Into a doubled up Walmart bag sitting on the floor. That's not sanitary. Two WalMart bags is not a sufficient buffer between your mucus and the rest of the world. Seriously. Biological warfare is prohibited by the Geneva Convention, so you and your bag'o'mucus should be at home. Where you can keep your germs close by.

GO HOME. GOHOMEGOHOMEGOHOOOOOME.
Oh, and Feel better!
amanda