Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Where in The Hell is my tinfoil cap?

Today a man came to the office where I work (well, technically just to the can't get in without an escort) to report that he had been implanted by the FBI with a 2-way transmitter in his head and they were following him, putting bombs on his car, and listening to his conversations and telling him what to do. All I can say is thank goodness not just anyone off the street can walk into the actual office...although, I have to admit that I'm a little scared about how this dude got as far into the federal building as he did (he was pretty clearly crazy/high as a kite). The guy's father was called to pick him up and it turns out Mr. Paranoid McAddict has been suffering from mental illness and using meth for several years. And let me tell you, it showed. I feel bad for the guy because clearly he was just totally out of touch with reality, but it's scary to think that people like that can just walk into the federal building, approach the agency of their choice, and vent/complain/accuse/etc. I guess I'm a little more understanding of the metal detector I have to walk through every day, even though it hates every single damn pair of shoes I own.

Anyway, guess I better put the finishing touches on my memo that's due tomorrow. I think it's basically done, but, as usual, I'm having problems with citations.

If anyone knows of a job that will pay me enough to make my loan payments, will allow me to use my brain and be creative, will not trap me in an office for 14 hours a day with a bunch of uptight, irritating people, and requires no citations whatsoever, please leave a comment. I'm in the market for a good job, as you all well know.
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