Stink EYe

I got the stink eye, pink eye, just call me the Queen of Conjnctivitis. Who else has to keep pink eye drops in their nightstand?
'
So there I am standing at the front counter, looking at Codi's wierd foot petechiae issue, and all is normal. (Well, other than her feet.) I go back to my office, grab my big pile of files and my barrette and cup. I set down my stuff in the council chambers, and am shamelessly flirted with by a very early citizen. I take my styrofoam-decorated-with-lipstick coffee cup to the kitchen, and head to the restroom to fix my hair. Then back to the kitchen where I make a cup of coffee and make a new pot for our guests. I head to the hallway and Codi says - "What's wrong with your eye? You have pink eye!" ANd, of course, I do. Oh, I denied it, I said I must have scratched it, but the weeping has started and the itching, and golly gee whiz, here I am again.

Devil eye, red eye, pink eye, conjunctivitis...don't care what you call it, it is StInK EyE to ME!
UUUUUGH!