(no subject)

There was an empty can of pineapple Ka spiked on the fence when I went out for a sandwich. I've never seen it outside of Harrow before, except the cans Cyg brought to the Millicon.

The 19, it is stalking me.

(no subject)

I am rapidly coming to hate my boss. According to her, it's not how far back the backlog of my work goes - which is a maximum of six days, say thankya, and that's not bad, she said so herself - it's the appearance of how much there is. Even though I'm doing at least two-thirds of the typing for the department by myself. When Viviette was doing my job, I was helping her out and she still couldn't keep the box empty. And they're running more clinics now than they were then.

And on top of it all, Boss Bitch said she'd help me with doing the mailouts, which takes at least as much time as the typing, "if she got time", and never did. And someone has to do it, and if I'm doing that I can't be reducing the typing backlog, can I?

Grah.