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From Six Pound
Walleye :
"I got nothing but grief around here yesterday," the chief said Tuesday
morning. "What the hell's making everybody so grouchy, I
wonder?"
"It's just February," I said. "They're all suffering from light
deprivation."
"Light deprivation?" He sat back abruptly, punishing the springs
in his big swivel chair. "Who thought up that excuse?"
"It's not an excuse, it's a syndrome. Doctors have an acronym for
it now -- SAD."
"Are you serious? SAD?"
"Yeah, it stands for, uh, seasonal affective disorder. It's caused by
this soupy overcast we get in Minnesota in the winter. Vince Greeley
said the other day, 'I don't think I've seen sunshine since the dog was a
pup.'"
"Light deprivation. I'll be goddamned. What a useful
discovery!" He slammed a drawer shut, and the windows shook.
"I wonder how I should enter it in the log?" He manhandled a lot of
loose reports into a stack and smacked his big glass paperweight on top of
the pile. "Lessee, I guess I'll say, 'The support staff threw a shit
fit when asked to straighten up the supply room, so Chief McCafferty,
shrewdly identifying the problem' -- he raised his left hand in a
mock-effete gesture, with the massive pinkie extended -- 'identifying the
problem as light deprivation, took all the money out of petty cash and
sent them to the tanning salon.'"
"Hey, great idea. Maybe I'll go too. And take my
significant other."
"What, Trudy's testy too? Your dream girl?"
"Spoiling for a fight. This morning I asked her if she wanted to
go ice fishing next weekend, and she yelled at me and threw my boots out
the door."
"Threw your boots out? Right out in the snowbank?" He grinned
hugely. "But was she yelling yes or no?"
"What's the difference, if she's that mad?"
"Quite a bit, if you really want to go ice fishing."
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