today, at my delightful RW job, the following happened:
1. while i was in the library on the computer checking my facebook, a maintenance guy was like "OHMYGOD you better get off that because employees are not supposed to use this computer." i was like "uh, no one told me that, i'm not worried." he was like "DUDE THEY CAN TRACK wherever you go in the server room downstairs a guy just got fired because he was looking at porn and got caught." HOLY SHIT!!!! I ERASED THE HISTORY AND GOT OFF FB FASTER THAN YOU WILL EVER KNOW. i don't want the CEO to see me in my bathing suit. or with a beer in my hand. or anything of the sort. NO. WAY. NO!!
2. i got back to my desk feeling fully creeped out. like totally. if they can track where i've been, then they can see my blog. HOLY SHIT. i talk shit about my job on this blog. i talk shit about the people i work with on this blog. shit shit damn. FUDGE! so i googled my own name to see what comes up. no facebook. no blog. marriage announcement, twitter account (totally PG and fine), 8th grade science project (wtf?) and that brand LaCie that manufactures printers. phew. then i thought WAIT A MINUTE and i typed in facebook.com it came up. RW unblocked facebook.com i think to track me. they are tracking me. OMG they are trying to track my life!!!!!! they are spying on me to see what i do. so i made a little personal vow to do nothing online at work but shop.
3. lunch break incident number one. while i am eating some leftover pasta roma, an argument between a guy and his ex wife who BOTH WORK AT RW ensues. about their son's car. and money. and i'm just sitting there trying to be quiet and unnoticeable.
4. lunch break incident number two. i learn that another person from RW has been fired. her boyfriend was a drug dealer and they got busted by the cops and it was all over the news.
5. lunch break incident number three. i learn that yet another person was fired. for selling $1,000 worth of Avon products to a woman with dimentia.
6. lunch break incident number four. i learn that two people who work here has a lover's quarrel (i.e. domestic dispute) this morning. he kicked down the door to her apartment and pushed her to the ground and screamed at her.
now i am sitting here at my desk. shocked. and filled with stories. and all i want to do is write a blog about my discoveries today, but instead i have to type it all our in a word document, print it, then delete it all.
from now on i cannot ever write blogs from work. i can only type them up and print them out, only to retype them at home and post. it's too risky to email them to myself for later copying and pasting. i do not know the kind of power RW has, and i am not about to find out. i talked to Sam for advice and she told me that i'm probably off the radar, you know, what with the porn and drugs and stealing form elderly women and domestic violence (OMFG WHERE AM I?!?!? IN JAIL?!?!?!) s little blog about my lame little life or a picture of me scantily clad hardly seems to be a matter of importance. but Sam also told me to watch my back. and that will definitely take effect, starting now. no more risks for this receptionist extraordinaire. no risks at all. these are dark times, i have to stay low.