...is what I meant to say. Turns out the wrong verb can land you in the H. R. department pretty quickly around here. Which is fine, because I don't mind filling out forms all that much and sensitivity training sounds enjoyable enough, but it is just the general attitude of everyone on this whole floor that doesn't sit well with me.
Would you like to have an example of hypocrisy cited?
Take for instance the personnel director, who I clearly remember saying a few days ago, did not want to see me in her office again. Yet, here at her desk I sit, not fully one week removed from those same comments, and at her insistence no less.
Look, I understand that I am more of an outdoor cat, so there could be a certain...transition period while I adapt to certain customs and "office etiquette" that these cubicle dwellers hold up as sacred and irreproachable. But, when I see a meal in the fridge labelled with yesterday's date, that's a free lunch up for grabs for the first person in that morning. Anyway, the way I see it, is that in the future, Steve can either deal with me eating his falafel in silence or learn to write the correct date on his stupid imitation Tupperware label.
Calendars are cheap and it is hardly common knowledge that he is diabetic.
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