March 19th, 2003

Charlie Brown

The Gestapo

Once again, the facist dictators of the hospital (read: middle management) have reared their ugly heads in their cowardly way and "told" on me again. This time, the assholes didn't have their stories right.

Apparently, I spend too much time up front in the registration area. So, through the grapevine (which means that someone just called my boss, but she's not saying who) Pat, my boss, finds out that I've been doing this. She calls my supervisor, Kory, and asks him what's going on. He explains, no, she's not goofing off, she was helping them catch up on some stuff and if not doing that, when she was on the computer she was looking for charts or printing facesheets.

Granted, yes, I did check my email, but you know what, so does everyone else in this godforsaken hell hole. But, for the most part, I was printing out face sheets or printing out charts.

So, he wasn't upset, neither was Pat, but I am. I'm tired of these people shoving their noses where they don't belong and getting their information incorrect. You want to rat on me, fine, fucking rat on me, but get your fucking story right.

In lighter news, I got my new bed last night. Very comfy.

In not so light news, a friend's cat was killed yesterday. Torn apart by two full grown male rottweilers. The cat was just sleeping on the patio when they attacked and killed him. Covered the porch in blood, ripped him into about three chunks and then their owner washed them down in his pool and claimed that they were never out of the house.

Animal control can't do anything. Bunch of crap.
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    Nine Inch Nails - Track 2 Right Side of the Fragile
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