Work

Survivor is done, so now I'm working on The Apprentice until I fly home to Connecticut. Same place, same work, different hours. My fabulously flexible, rush-hour-free 12 or 1ish-8 shift has been replaced by a horrific, traffic-filled and steadfast 7-5. One day, these people will learn that you get the same amount of work out of someone in ten hours as you do eight. It's according to the Proportional Property of Math. At least since today is Labor Day and there was no rush hour I got to sleep in a bit. Tomorrow is the real test, when I have to wake up at 5:30 and face morning traffic.

I'll never understand what compels some people to take a dump in the workplace toilet. I mean, okay, maybe once in a while you've just got to go, but most of the time, can't you wait until you get home? I swear, half the people who work here treat this place like their own personal restroom, which it isn't, because if it was, then I wouldn't have to use it right after them and face the unpleasant effects of their inconsideration. Plus they probably wouldn't be so messy since they'd have to actually clean it up, instead of leaving it to whatever unfortunate souls we employ as our cleaning service, who apparently got so fed up that they're protesting by not emptying the garbage. The bins in our room are overflowing with rancid half-eaten foodstuffs from weeks before. I probably shouldn't have thrown that bowl of cereal with the sour milk away in there. It can't smell any worse than the bathrooms, though.

Oh, and now someone's put magazines and air freshener in the bathrooms so as to encourage more of this behavior. The air freshener is a welcome relief, but the magazines are cause for concern. The bathrooms are hard enough to find unoccupied without people sitting around reading magazines in them.

I can't wait to spend ten hours a day here!