2.12.00 - 23:20:13
I apologize for that nonsense yesterday. I claim temporary insanity. Forgive me? You should. The insane can't be held accountable for their actions. Actually, the mentally ill get away with a lot of shit everyday normal folks don't. I've known people on the brink and man, do they get preferential treatment!
Take soiling yourself at work. If you're nuts, you can get away with it. On a daily basis. Trust me on this one.
There's a wacko in our building who works in Shipping and Receiving I think, but she comes up to the 54th floor to use the bathroom. (Please note I have assigned a pseudonym my floor. My floor wishes to remain anonymous and as this is a public Dairyland type forum, it is the appropriate and responsible thing to do.)
Now Shipping and Receiving is in the basement, but our bathroom is, well, on the 54th floor. Mind you, I have no problem with the Shipping and Receiving people using our bathroom. I'm not an elitist about our facilities, but here is where a form of what I can only label as mental illness kicks in.
She waits until the last minute. She waits until she can't hold it one more second. She waits until she's bursting from one to two of three areas in the human body where things can burst from. She flies off the elevator, barrels through the key-card door and attempts to access the women's room. Unlike the restrooms in the basement, our more important and aesthetically pleasing restroom on the 54th floor is locked by a punch-code device. You have to enter the proper code and press the pound (#) sign before you gain entry.
She never gets the code entered in time.
One can only imagine the results. I need not describe them. They vary from a powerful and lingering odor to stained undergarments hanging from a stall. This is an office building. This is Chicago. This is the 54th floor!
Clearly she needs help. Something is terribly wrong with a person who shits her pants every single day in public. I've asked around and get the same answer each time. No one does anything about her behavior because she has "problems" and Corporate (with a capital C) is apprehensive about confronting her.
There is such an atmosphere of paranoia surrounding our HR offices these days that they won't address the issue or suggest counseling, let alone fire her, because they're scared the company might be slapped with a costly lawsuit. I imagine this sort of paralyzing fear doesn't occur only in my place of business, but is prevalent elsewhere.
Man, this didn't exactly go where I intended. What began as a lighthearted attempt to explain away yesterday's entry leaves me feeling empty and sad. Rather than making a mockery of the mentally ill, I'm thinking about that woman in Shipping and Receiving and wondering not only why the company doesn't help her, but why I haven't helped her. Serves me right. Bad Chimp.
Must I be so melodramatic? Yes! It's my diary, I'll whine if I want to.
