December
13th 2014: Today I am posted on the North Court. They
re-opened a couple of the rooms but the majority is still closed for storage.
Which basically means my patrol pattern is the same shape as a dick and ball
sack. The balls being the open galleries. I decided I will go to the Christmas
party. Hopefully the beer will be free like other years. With the way the
economy is I have reason to doubt.
They have a Awards ceremony going on again (not that I knew about them to begin with…)
and Mismanagement actually gave us an option to vote within our department.
Everybody looked up with lazy amusement and shock. Even though they get a
“choice” it does not really matter. It’s just the illusion of an option, or at
least that’s what everyone has come to perceive thanks to the constant
in-fighting tactics her and Knucklehead employ. I voted twice!
D.S., doing leg work, just gave me a copy of en e-mail about the new parking
rates. Firstly I do noy qualify because I am part-time, secondly I cannot afford
it even if I did! So here’s their plan; they want to raise prices so that they
have room for more parking spaces… let me finish… for guests. That’s right;
they plan to attract more guests by raising the prices at the parking lot. Not
only that but in order for a staff member to park there they need to pay up to
$180 a month for a special pass. This is obviously for people who don’t work in
Facilities. One reason why I never drive to work.
I
guess I am paranoid, or something, today. When I was getting off my hour break,
and waiting for the elevators, I saw (redacted) blatantly talking on his cell
phone. Except this time I swore I heard him say “My Name” then he quickly hung
up (or I guess I should say “closed”) the phone and starred straight ahead.
Everyone thinks I do not give a shit to the point that I do not catch on to
things. Whatever (redacted) was talking about, he’s probably already forgot. Why
not? He forgets everything else, or at least he pretends to. That’s what
happens when you have nothing better to do; you plot and scheme, or you write
it all down, or you sleep standing up. Mr. B is freakishly good at that.
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