I can't lie, I wish my boss could give me gold stars. Instead, I get eyerolls (I tried to explain to him why I liked wearing steel-toed shoes--why did I even try?).

Oh yeah. We did the shakeout drill in the jury room. Why wont this day end?

Sara, maybe ones of your neighbors needs a cat?

The closest I've gotten to a gold star in the working world is a smiley face. Which I found so odd ten years ago. Now it would probably make me happy. Look! A smiley! I'm awesome!

I think there's at least a place in purgatory for people who run pressure washers practically under my office window all day long.

Right next to the guy who runs the leafblower every. fucking. day. I get that there are a lot of leaves, but that sound is akin to a knife in my brane .

So did I tell you guys about stickergate? Our students are now using a regular curriculum, and because finishing the book means they earn an instrument of their own, they have all become very performance oriented. Only they have no real concept that there are concepts to be learned, only that there are pages to be stickered. Last year we had an issue, but this year's version is even worse. The student in question stole the entire sticker book (making it impossible for anyone to legitimately earn one, btw, didn't think that through, did they?) and has been stickering her own pages. Now, a) we're smarter than a 2nd grader and b) we also write down which song each student is on in our attendance sheet. But there are two teachers, so it's always possible glancing at the book that the other teacher passed the student on the song I don't remember getting passed. But this year's stickergate girl got a little too ambitious and passed herself through four (count them, four) songs in one day. During a time when we weren't giving out stickers. Mysterious! Guess we should just let her go on! Despite the fact that she clearly can't play the songs in question!

Hee. Guess we're going to have to have a small conversation about ethics and the value of achievement.

Oh, Liese, that's kind of endearing. While at the same time being nefarious.

I am a bad person. Someone sent My Nemesis a request for information, which information would be much easier for me to compile than for her. It is, in essence, within the scope of my responsibility.

My Nemesis, instead of forwarding the request to me, printed out the email. Which I found on the printer, which is how I know about it.

I took the printout, because I am evil. Now I'm just going to wait to see if she comes to me for the information, since she pretty much has to.

Office politics make me so damned petty.

We did the shakeout drill in the jury room. Why wont this day end?

We had to do a drop and cover drill on my day in the jury room--and it wasn't shakeout shit. They have an obsession.

Ah, stupid cheating. I am guilty of having fudged a survey I was doing for the radio station in college, but it got too depressing to keep calling up people who had never heard of our radio station. So I filled out the rest of the surveys, but I put hte majority of them down as having no clue about us, then added in some nifty outliers like the rock-loving granny and the easy listening devotee teenager along with a few listeners from the middle demographic.

As opposed to the other person who cheated on the survey by filling out 30 sheets by checking straight down the middle of hte page. I didn't feel bad for cheating--I felt smug for being so much better at it.

I have eaten a good 2/3 of the tub of hummus I bought this morning. At least I've gotten a lot of protein today?