Who's bright idea was it to put my birthday on a Monday? How the hell am I supposed to party on a Sunday night and a Monday...they just aren't party days. And it doesn't look like there'll be any partying anyway. Girls wiped out from work, I'm not in much better shape than she is, and my friends are all...uh, wait, don't got none of those. Except Hockey Temper, but he's no fun when drunk. Too hockey-temperish.

Plus, he wants to take me to a titty bar, basically because he just wants an excuse to go to one. I don't even really like strips clubs. I've just never had a thing for strippers. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good boob, I just like the challenge of talking them out of their shirts through my own wits and charm. Heh.

On to other things. They've instituted a new policy at work today. They made up a board from which envelopes are hung (hanged?) bearing the names of every grocery dept. employee. In that envolope this morning was the following memo:

ATTENTION ALL ASSOCIATES

In order to communicate more effectively you will receive a work assignment sheet in your envelope every day. You are expected to complete all of the duties listed (with consideration for uncontrollable circumstances). At the end of your shift, please check the items on your list that you have completed. Please list any issues that prevented you from completing any of your tasks. Then please place the work assignment sheet in the returned assignment sheet envelope (located at the bottom right corner of the board). A member of management will then follow up by checking the completed duties and placing the incompleted duties on another associate's list.

Thank you

Napoleans I & 2

What. The. Fuck? Now tell me something...how the hell am I supposed to get away with doing not much all day with shit like THAT going on? What's the point of going to work every day when you can't get away with anything? Micromanagement. Bah!

But I do get three days off this week...none of which are consecutive, of course. Oh well, days off are days off!

Anyway, enough bitching. But, without the bitching, I guess I'm done.

Oh yeah, Turk is cool, she gave me a ride home. You go girl.

Oh, and just in case you're so inclined: My Wish List

Wooderson

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