Monday 16 October 2006

There are days when I wish I could resign, retire to Belize, and forget about mutants, Paul Breedlove, Adam, all of it.

One irritating event after another came my way today, with the day-ending finale of the delivery of trenchcoats for the GS agents. Unfortunately, they were all in…children's sizes.

Tuesday 17 October 2006

Laura Varady dropped by the office bright and early today.

"Good morning, Mason. My, you look depressed. What's wrong?"

Just like that, it all came out with no hesitation. How can she tell when I'm depressed? Everybody else thinks I am in a vile mood all of the time, whether I am or not, which is useful for keeping away people with frivolous concerns.

I was depressed—but how did she know?

"I am fine, Dr Varady."

"And pigs fly. Your stoicism is admirable after my Monday filled with whiney employees who perceive themselves as victims, but you cannot go on internalizing everything. Would you sign this?"

She handed me a purchase order form for a massive quantity of candy.

"What is this?"

"Halloween. After the negative publicity Genomex has received this year, I thought it might just be wise to hand out candy at the guard house to all of the neighborhood kiddies."

"The past nine months have been trying."

That was an understatement. During the past nine months Genomex had weathered a nitrogen release (the gas is inert and was never a hazard to anyone, but video images of a cloud of gas spewing from an outdoor storage tank taped from helicopters filled local tv screens for days, a huge fishkill (not even our fault, but ultimately traced to illegally dumped hazardous waste a quarter mile east, but the carpeting of our shoreline with wall to wall dead fish with Genomex in the background is the image most people saw and will remember), and then there was the invasion of the spiders from Hell…furry-looking monsters that were typically not smaller than 5 inches across. These things hatched by the millions and moved off into the surrounding neighborhood. The anomalous arachnids were our fault, but we admitted nothing.

As I said, they hatched by the millions. What a mess they made of the parking lot access road each morning and evening with the passage of many cars flattening many spiders.

"We should try to be better corporate neighbors."

"Do you really think stuffing every child within a mile with sugar and chocolate will change any minds?"

"It cannot hurt."

As I signed the document, I said, "I think it might be more effective to put a psychoactive drug in the neighborhood drinking water to make all of the adults mellow, calm, and unconcerned about whatever happens." I handed back the form.

"That isn't funny, Mason."

Of course I was joking. Treating the water would be too expensive. But how could she tell I was joking?

Wednesday 18 October 2006

I noticed this afternoon that one of the plants has yellowing leaves that have begun dropping off.

Thursday 19 October 2006

About 2.30 PM I took a stroll through the research labs and was surprised to hear…singing. Some of the technical people here are markedly eccentric, but I have been assured that they are all quite harmless.

I followed the sound of singing to a conference room and stood outside listening. Fortunately, Dr Shah emerged from one of her labs.

"Excuse me, Dr Shah…but what are they singing in there?"

The question surprised her.

"Why, they're practicing pumpkin carols, Mr Eckhart. I'm told they are an American tradition."

"Pumpkin carols…thank you, Dr Shah."

I did not want to know any more, so I turned and hurried back to my office, cutting through hallways leading past more labs. If I had not taken this usually untrodden route, I would not have had the experience of seeing Dr Mayakovsky taping a string of pumpkin lights around the inside frame of his office door. He was too busy spreading pumpkiny joy to notice me.

Friday 20 October 2006

Unseasonably warm, pleasant weather today, so after working hours I took a stroll along the shoreline. I was pleased to discover that the fishkill cleanup must be nearly complete since I detected only the faintest whiff of reeking rotten fish.

Saturday 21 October 2006Decided closet needed straightening badly. Spent the morning re-arranging shirts, jackets, slacks, gloves. Replaced all white hangers (pitched 'em) with black hangers.

Moved black shirts from the right to the far left. Moved slacks to the middle. Placed jackets on the right depending upon the width of the stripes, fine stripes to the left, wider stripes to the right.

Made tidy stacks of black gloves in pairs.

Combed out my three dozen sets of white wigs. Briefly pondered when the zebra wig will arrive, and whether or not it would work with the pinstripes.

Was exhausted when all of this was done but with a feeling of considerable accomplishment. Took a nice nap. Feeling organized and prepared to deal with my jackass lackeys on Monday.

Sunday 22 October 2006

Re-read latest psych reports on Thorne.

Monday 23 October 2006

Woke up late, which was bad enough, only to find the wretched slugs who are supposed to be keeping up with my supply of skin hadn't replenished my stock. Will have to remember to breeze through Bio-Polymers section unexpectedly, and flash my "shark-eye" at all of them.

When I walked in late on the weekly Monday morning meeting, the laughter died down suddenly. I wonder why they won't share the jokes with me? I could have used a good laugh after the way the day started.

At least my closet was organized, and even though I had to walk around in old polymers until nearly noon, I was able to get dressed in a flash.

Tuesday 24 October 2006

Dr Varady insists that the subdermal thorazine patches used on Thorne have limited usefulness because Thorne metabolizes the antipsychotic faster than a typical human.

That's a pity. Having Thorne available would be like having a starving, unmannered pit bull to threaten enemies with. Sometimes, nothing else will do; Thorne is so obviously on the edge of rationality.

However, Thorne is high maintenance. He requires flattery to be managed well, and as Dr Varady advised after the test for metabolites of thorazine made obvious that the drug wasn't really controlling him, I rarely speak or deal with Thorne without keeping one hand, just out of sight, on his governor controller. There is no telling when he may feign a submissive attitude only to turn upon me.Wednesday 25 October 2006 If only my employees knew the sacrifices I make to keep Genomex the kind of place that it is. I would never burden them with such tales, besides it's none of their business, it's mine.

Note to self: get Human Resources to commence a search for the replacement of the gigglers down in Bio-Polymers. Giggling really annoys me. It is legal to not hire gigglers? Or to ask in an interview whether one giggles? Get Security to put up cameras/microphones in Bio-Polymers Autoclave Room, tap into all appropriate email and phones, and find and document reasons for firing these clowns, who give science a frivolous name.

How can I save humanity with such people working for me?

Come to think of it, if memory serves me correctly, Adam giggles.