Drag
2004-03-12,

Lordy, but this day is dragging. Afternoon, really. This last hour of the workday is going to take forever, I just know it. It does, however, leave me with some time to write, for a change.

Today is my last official workday as a newbie (read: probationary period). I�m kind of glad to be here, especially with the event of last week, something that I have not yet shared with you- or my wife, for that matter (hi, shmoopie).

Tuesday of last week, Cindy, the woman who started here at NIIC a week before I did, was �no longer with us� (read: fired) because she wasn�t fitting in with the company (read: Supervisor hated her). Supposedly it was because she messed up royally on some paperwork for this insured, which we�ll call ABCD Transport. Well guess who�s policy folder ended up on my desk today, my last probationary day? Needless to say, I treated it like a pissed-off viper- namely, tried to give it away. Unfortunately it�s still sitting on my desk, but it�s been rendered unconscious for the moment. I just think it�s ironic that it showed up today. Especially since it�s my fault that Cindy ended up with it previously. No guilt there. I was busy at the time (this was two weeks ago) and Cindy had nothing happening, so she gladly picked up the work. On which she ended up spending most of that day. And some of the following Monday. So basically I dodged a bullet and it ended up hitting her. The paperwork was really just an excuse to get Cindy out, however, so it wasn�t like it was a firing near-miss for me. Or. . . was it? [Dunn Dunn Duuuuuuuhhh!!]

I�ve just made a sudden decision: in the near future, I�m going to start writing my journal entries in some sort of screen-/stage-/teleplay format, so as I can be more actively descriptive in my monologue format, and thus be able to venture into the absurdist realm, ala Pinter. I want my own giant foot growing out of my bedroom. Anyway, it�s something to shoot for.

-- End Transmission --