Waste of a day
Back to work. Meaning: back to 60 hours a week of pain, agony and torture.
Speaking of pain, agony and torture, Shan and I went out to lunch to the wretched new restaurant next door. Not only did the service suck ass (although the food was passable, if not overpriced), the Upper McManagement became seated at the very next booth. I swear, 400 available seats in the house, and they stick all of us together. Perfect. We were stressed out the whole time and talked in hushed tones. So did they, although I did overhear discussions about raises, salaries and job descriptions.
I found out today that Frosty the H.R. Queen discards negative evaluations done by staff and leadership on the executive director (Cruise Director). No wonder dipshit always gets “favorable” reviews — how could he not, when the rest of our surveys hit the trash?