Hmph. Today, I really hate my fucking job. I go through the hassle of creating, printing, folding and stuffing 700 invitations to my Women's Clinic, and nobody can be bothered to ensure they go to head office to get mailed (which I reminded at least 3 people to do). The clinic is in 7 days...thanks a bunch. One of my co-workers had an interesting thought-she was going to post a sign that said "My manager doesn't care, so I don't care". How true. Our manager (a wonderful human being, seriously) is so laid back, so non-confrontational that everything just falls to the wayside or gets ignored. Again, it comes down to the dick factor. If a man had asked for the invitations to be mailed, it would have been done, end of story. Chris is a little miffed with me because I didn't tell him I was keeping a blog. It really didn't occur to me, and I knew it would come up eventually. He was a little mortified that I wrote about the Plan B incident, but I assured him no one reads this damn thing anyway.