Recipe for disaster.
When I started this journal thing, I never intended to write about daily happenings at work. I mean, I didn't want to be consumed by that part of my life. Especially since I rarely think about it beyond 5:00 p.m. But, I think this is worth documenting.
About a year ago I started locking the backdoor to our building when there was just me, or me and the other secretary on the first floor.
If Dan, who sat between the secretaries and the backdoor, was there with us, I would go ahead and leave the backdoor unlocked. At one point, though, I realized that Dan wasn't necessarily a great first line of defense, so I started locking the door even when he was there. Now, Dan is gone, so that's not even a consideration.
If Brian, whose office is immediately to the left of the backdoor, is there, I don't worry whether that door is locked or not. When Brian leaves the building via the backdoor, he locks it on his way out.
Nowadays, I'm the only secretary, Dan is gone, Brian is out a lot, and Kevin is rarely there. So, I'm very conscientious about keeping the backdoor locked.
It's a basic security precaution on my part. Something that's easy to do without a lot of effort. I don't really think I need to state the reasons why I do this. Do you?
Kevin has groused about the door being locked in the past. But, one time he even admitted that his wife thought it was a good idea to keep it locked.
Well, today, I was the only one on the first floor for most of the morning and the early part of the afternoon. Shortly after lunch, I hear this loud thump on the back porch. For a fleeting moment, I considered going back there to see what was going on. Before I had a chance to decide, I hear this banging on the back screen door. I figured someone who worked in the building had locked themselves out. So, I go back there, and I can see through the lace curtain that it's Kevin. I unlock the door. He's laden down with files and his trial case is sitting on the porch between his feet. As I reach to take some files off his hands, he blurts, "it really pisses me off when this door is locked."
I know Kevin, and he's going to insist that the backdoor remain unlocked as long as I'm there.
Gee, I wonder if it'll really piss him off if I get mugged, or worse, by an intruder?
Actually, I came to realize a long time ago that Kevin places no value on me, beyond my pitiful paycheck. I'm a body. Replaceable. Anyone can do what I do, in his mind. He does nothing to encourage loyalty. As a matter of fact, he goes out of his way to discourage it. Now it seems he places no value on my life. Sickening.
Yeah, I'm going to continue to keep the door locked.
Today is my mom's 76th birthday. I remember a party -- six years ago today. It was a Saturday. We had a party for her at the club. It was a surprise party, and she was very surprised. Carol and Garry came from Muskegon. Jeannette and Netsi, Clao and Skee, Ann, Randy and Ashley, RL and Alice, John, Gael, Katie and Mickey, me and the girls, and a whole cast of characters from her past. It was so much fun. Memories. Remembering.