Do rats play drums?

If so, they’ve been doing it inside my skull for most of the day. I got to work this morning and there was a lock on my locker. That didn’t belong to me, thereby rendering me very unhappy. I just worked Tuesday. I’m very glad that the person who did it wasn’t in hearing because the first think out of my mouth was “Who the hell did this?!!?” I calmed down after a minute and realized that it must just be someone new, so I sought out the nurse educator and requested the identity of the encroacher, if for no other purpose than just to reclaim my stuff. I left a very polite note introducing myself and even offering to move out if I could just get my belongings. She removed the lock but told me she’d cleaned out the previous day. Now, I’ve been there for 5 years, and now that I’ve gone prn, I don’t keep much of anything there anymore, so she thought it was vacant, I guess. No, I didn’t have a lock on it, cause I don’t keep stuff here for the most part. I’ll get one now! However. My scissors are now missing. I’m simply unable to function without my scissors. It’s like going out without a bra. I feel naked without them. I left a message on the board requesting their swift return, but I bet they’re gone for good. And another thing. Do you know she went and told the cardiac director that I was “mean at first, but then I became nice”? I don’t see what was mean about volunteering to cede territory with my stuff, but what-the-hell-ever. After the week I’ve had, I won’t be surprised if America’s Most Wanted mistakes my identity. *sigh* Then, I got to work with my favorite Dr R. today, who (as we’ve established before) has the communicatory skills of a fruit fly and naturally didn’t bother to board his cases correctly, thereby causing severe dis-preparement on the part of the staff, resulting in his severe (yet highly un-deserved, thank you very much) displeasure. Grrrrrrr. How nice. (Remember the old joke about the lady who was listening to all her friends discuss the nice things their husbands had gotten them for their anniversaries and kept saying “How nice!” When they asked her what she’d been given for her last anniversary, she told them a year’s worth of charm school lessons. When asked “Well, what ever for?” she answered “So I could learn how to say “How nice!!” instead of “Fuck you!”) How very nice. Then I got a headache so bad I couldn’t function/focus/fill out forms correctly. Woot. I just want to go to bed. This all started last night when my husband informed me he was having “Bro night” at our house. Apparently, I’m the only one of the wives who will let them participate in “Bro night” at our house. I agreed, with stipulations. Clean up after yourself, BYOB, by God you better not wake up the baby, and LEAVE at a reasonable hour, so that everyone else can get to sleep and to work the next morning without feeling like a poorly mutated lab specimen hell-bent on learning the drum solo to “Back in Black” is rolling around between your ears. Well, all seemed to go according to plan, until the reasonable hour came and went, and they all seemed to be omitting the leaving part. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. And some choice words. Not to mention, they get stupid when they drink, and it’s like baby-sitting teenage boys with less sense. I don’t like playing dutch boy for bunch of grown ass men with no money trying to do things that will only result in scraping them off the pavement where they’ve morphed into a greasy spot, or bailing them out of the pokey with our no money. Actually, I’ve always subscribed to the belief that if you’re stupid enough to play and get caught, you can rot in there till I decide to part with my hard-earned money rectifying your mistake. (I don’t hear any dancing elephants yet, but keep waiting. Let me know when they show up.) I finally issued the dismissal edict at approximately 1145. *disgruntled sigh* My week’s getting better and better. I’m just ecstatic thinking about what Friday holds in store for me! (Wild sarcastic grin)