Reason Number 47...

...why I need to get the hell out of the mailroom.

So we're sitting in the mailroom today, doing our usual thing opening, sorting and ditributing tons of stupid mail, when a woman we've never seen before appears in the doorway.

She says, "Hi. I was told to come here for supplies. I need some sticky notes."

So S. gets up and gives her some sticky notes from the locked cupboard.

When the woman was gone, I said, "Who the hell was that?"

It's not uncommon to see unfamiliar faces in the office, since the company has hired a lot of temps to help us catch up on the backlog of claims.

S. replied, "I dunno."

Then the Senior Staff Member, who is a bit of a control freak, said to Sandy in a reproving tone, "You gave her supplies and you don't know her?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to say, "It was sticky notes, not a handjob, fer Chrissakes", but wisely kept my mouth shut.

When the SSM left the room, I said to S., "Jeez, S., what were you thinking? Giving office supplies to strangers? Don't you know a stapler in the wrong hands can lead to fatal tasering?"

(This joke will only be meaningful to Canadians, I'm afraid).

Anyway, it's just that kind of weirdness tha makes me glad I am out of the mailroom in 12 days, come hell or high water.