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February 28, 2002-9:40 p.m. Workplace hell continues unabated. I respond in devilish fashion. Some people at work in an effort to keep from being given an error on their work spent what was undoubtedly ten times as much time as it should have taken to mount their defense. This argument was shot down pretty quickly causing them to have to regroup and waste an even greater amount of time mounting a second defense. Our supervisor, once she was alerted to this subterfuge and the length of time it was taking, told them that she would want to okay it before it was sent to the quality unit. One of the defendants made a comment about the length of time it had taken them and I quipped, �Osama probably didn�t spend that much time planning that whole September 11th thing.� *Supervisor tells Sa she was "wrong for that"* Then for some reason ~Sa looks all perplexed~ the people around me started talking about how mean I am as though I�m not sitting right there. The trucker�s daughter started telling my new neighbor about how mean I am. TD: �Sa says the meanest things!� New Neighbor: �I can be pretty mean, too.� TD: �But you always do it in a laughing way so that you can tell that you are kidding. Sa says mean things with such a hard-hearted look on her face that you can tell she means them.� *Sa wonders to herself what the point of saying mean things that you don�t mean would be.* Sa to TD (all DeNiro in Taxi Driver-like): �Are you trying to say that I am mean to you?� TD: *stunned and scared silence* Sa to TD (menacing DeNiro mode): �I hope you are not trying to say that I am mean to you because I would HATE to have to show you what mean REALLY looks like.� I think we can pretty much safely assume that I will once again be featured in the trucker�s daughter�s prayers. Aliquot! **Disclaimer: All characters in this diary are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, real or imagined, is purely coincidental and unintentional.** |
