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Monday, June 19, 2017

Sundays...

Are days that I get dealt calls from other employees, who either tear shit up or because they just are not doing their job.

Linen chute backed all the way up to the 5th floor, which doesn't included the two floors below. Wouldn't happen if the person who was suppose to be emptying the bins, actually did their job. Instead, right before the end of the shift...They come whining to me to get them out. As others are tossing more down. If it isn't linen, it's trash. Makes no difference, on Sunday, I'm always busy dealing with that kinds of crap.

I could go into details about some other stuff that made my Father's Day a work fest, but lets be real. If I didn't love it, I wouldn't allow it to include me. So perhaps there is a glitch in my psychological make up. Something to ponder.

I stopped & visited with the folks before I traveled into crackhead land. Pop was like...call in & take off, we will drink some cold ones. It's Father's Day. Yeah, I could have done that, but I'm just not that kind of person. (I wonder if I was switched at birth in the hospital)


Yeah, this is on my phone & goes off telling me when it's time to clock on. Like I need a reminder.
Hope you had a nice Father's Day. Me...I made a lot of people happy & that's what life is all about. Pop goes a cold one.....