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A certain anniversary
07/02/2006 05:43 pmToday is when the Izzie finally takes down her green and silver tinsel and other assorted Christmas decorations. Will also be sitting out in the sunset sipping our best bottlie and making another visit to the creepy Riddle House.
The Iz had originally planned to invite the ma and pa over for our Dark Mark Party. Good bottles are always best drunk in company. (if we had a late shift like usual on Tuesdays, would have gone to their place after work with the bottle and nibblies)
But that was speculation and possibility. When the roster came out a few weeks ago, soon put paid to that. The Izzie ended up with three 7am to 3pm shifts in a row - today being right in the middle of them.
Now when you cannot sleep in the next day, makes any possibility of entertaining just too much hassle. Then - just to add to the fun - the accreditation folks whose visit was originally scheduled for last Friday (yippee - it's our day off) inexplicably delayed it until today. They notified us two weeks ago about this. So, needless to say, the chances of getting the day off or getting any volunteers to swap shifts was pretty much zilch.
Today also happened to be the first anniversary of the day our decent boss started and the old toad officially retired. Little did we know then how short lived that would be and how her return would signal the rapid descent of the place into a den of dementors and inquisitors.
But Dolores did depart again at the end of last year. Her demise was most certainly hastened by their appalling performance at last year's accreditation visit in August - where big black holes were found in occupational health and safety, mysteriously vanished paperwork, and complaints from several residents and staff than management cared more about money than people. All of these failures were clearly attributable to the old toad. A toxic workplace culture is one of those things that is very hard to hide and the more psychic and sensitive sorts can actually feel it.
The atmosphere has dramatically improved since the old toad left and the Iz no longer dreads going to work every day and no longer feels the need to clutter her online diary with rants. It will never be as good as it was for those 3 short months beginning 7th February last year. But then again, it will never be as bad as it was for the last 7 months of 2005.
But some things haven't changed. The matron is still employing dopy dogshits and dipsticks. One of the worst is Fluffy Bunny who has been strutting and smirking even more than usual since Mummie got promoted to the top job. The silly bitch ought to have never been let in at all but sent off to Hungry Jacks where mummie cannot look after her and save her from the consequences of her pathetic stupidity.
And the latest addition to the collection - a slimy sleazebag from Syria who claims to be a medical doctor but most conveniently, his qualifications are not recognized here and it is too expensive to go through the registration procedure.
Izzie reckons he is as much a doctor as we are an immam in a Meccan mosque;) Iz finds that many doctors - a minority might be idealists but most are social snobs. No real doctor would ever work as a carer in a nursing home - just about the lowest you can get on the social pecking order of employment. Not to mention that even checkout chicks and street sweepers get paid more per hour than us.
Iz reckons that the real motive for claiming medical status is that he thinks that along with his hairy chest and gold medallions, it will make him into a total chick magnet. Even when he got asked about occupational health and safety by the accreditation team, he managed to turn it into an opportunity to talk about his amazing talents and abilities. But the poor sod is just too damned up himself to realize that rather than attracting attention from all the young nubile females, most of us look on him with total contempt and disdain. Dr Spock is one of his nicer nicknames. If you could imagine an Arab Gilderoy Lockhart, that is pretty much a perfect summary.
He struts and swaggers and never misses a chance to boast about how his family own half of Syria - including of course the buildings housing the Danish embassy that got attacked the other day. That belongs to his aunt. Izzie suspects that the real reason he is claiming to be anti-religion is that there is a lot of anti-Muslim prejudice around at the moment which would not exactly score brownie points will all these nubile young things queueing up to get into his trousers.
And today he was saying how difficult it is to be new in a country and to not yet have friends. "Oh let's have a pity party" thinks Izzie.
All we can do is be utterly evil and hope that our little fluffy bunny falls for his charms. That will get mummie on the war path and rid us of this pestilent narcissistic prat.
PS - heard on the radio this morning that some one in Iran - probably sponsored by the government is going to run a cartoon competition on the subject of the Jewish Holocaust. Looks like some one has gotten a bit of brains at last- protesting with words and pictures instead of bullets and bombs. Of course - it would only makes sense if the original Danish cartoonist was Jewish. Encouraging infinitely more tasteless and offensive cartoons - it's a stroke of evil genius because the Danes or any other westerners will look like hypocrites if they get offended as the Iranians will gladly pull out the 'Free speech' defence. Mind you - from what the Izzie hears - there's no need to run a special competition as nasty anti Jewish or anti Christian cartoons and booklets - even the Protocols of the Elders of Zion are widely available in much of the Middle East.
If you want respect for your beliefs, then you have to also give it to the beliefs of others and if that is not acceptable because yours is the one true way and they are infidels, then needless to say, the others will probably view yours in just the same way.
The Iz had originally planned to invite the ma and pa over for our Dark Mark Party. Good bottles are always best drunk in company. (if we had a late shift like usual on Tuesdays, would have gone to their place after work with the bottle and nibblies)
But that was speculation and possibility. When the roster came out a few weeks ago, soon put paid to that. The Izzie ended up with three 7am to 3pm shifts in a row - today being right in the middle of them.
Now when you cannot sleep in the next day, makes any possibility of entertaining just too much hassle. Then - just to add to the fun - the accreditation folks whose visit was originally scheduled for last Friday (yippee - it's our day off) inexplicably delayed it until today. They notified us two weeks ago about this. So, needless to say, the chances of getting the day off or getting any volunteers to swap shifts was pretty much zilch.
Today also happened to be the first anniversary of the day our decent boss started and the old toad officially retired. Little did we know then how short lived that would be and how her return would signal the rapid descent of the place into a den of dementors and inquisitors.
But Dolores did depart again at the end of last year. Her demise was most certainly hastened by their appalling performance at last year's accreditation visit in August - where big black holes were found in occupational health and safety, mysteriously vanished paperwork, and complaints from several residents and staff than management cared more about money than people. All of these failures were clearly attributable to the old toad. A toxic workplace culture is one of those things that is very hard to hide and the more psychic and sensitive sorts can actually feel it.
The atmosphere has dramatically improved since the old toad left and the Iz no longer dreads going to work every day and no longer feels the need to clutter her online diary with rants. It will never be as good as it was for those 3 short months beginning 7th February last year. But then again, it will never be as bad as it was for the last 7 months of 2005.
But some things haven't changed. The matron is still employing dopy dogshits and dipsticks. One of the worst is Fluffy Bunny who has been strutting and smirking even more than usual since Mummie got promoted to the top job. The silly bitch ought to have never been let in at all but sent off to Hungry Jacks where mummie cannot look after her and save her from the consequences of her pathetic stupidity.
And the latest addition to the collection - a slimy sleazebag from Syria who claims to be a medical doctor but most conveniently, his qualifications are not recognized here and it is too expensive to go through the registration procedure.
Izzie reckons he is as much a doctor as we are an immam in a Meccan mosque;) Iz finds that many doctors - a minority might be idealists but most are social snobs. No real doctor would ever work as a carer in a nursing home - just about the lowest you can get on the social pecking order of employment. Not to mention that even checkout chicks and street sweepers get paid more per hour than us.
Iz reckons that the real motive for claiming medical status is that he thinks that along with his hairy chest and gold medallions, it will make him into a total chick magnet. Even when he got asked about occupational health and safety by the accreditation team, he managed to turn it into an opportunity to talk about his amazing talents and abilities. But the poor sod is just too damned up himself to realize that rather than attracting attention from all the young nubile females, most of us look on him with total contempt and disdain. Dr Spock is one of his nicer nicknames. If you could imagine an Arab Gilderoy Lockhart, that is pretty much a perfect summary.
He struts and swaggers and never misses a chance to boast about how his family own half of Syria - including of course the buildings housing the Danish embassy that got attacked the other day. That belongs to his aunt. Izzie suspects that the real reason he is claiming to be anti-religion is that there is a lot of anti-Muslim prejudice around at the moment which would not exactly score brownie points will all these nubile young things queueing up to get into his trousers.
And today he was saying how difficult it is to be new in a country and to not yet have friends. "Oh let's have a pity party" thinks Izzie.
All we can do is be utterly evil and hope that our little fluffy bunny falls for his charms. That will get mummie on the war path and rid us of this pestilent narcissistic prat.
PS - heard on the radio this morning that some one in Iran - probably sponsored by the government is going to run a cartoon competition on the subject of the Jewish Holocaust. Looks like some one has gotten a bit of brains at last- protesting with words and pictures instead of bullets and bombs. Of course - it would only makes sense if the original Danish cartoonist was Jewish. Encouraging infinitely more tasteless and offensive cartoons - it's a stroke of evil genius because the Danes or any other westerners will look like hypocrites if they get offended as the Iranians will gladly pull out the 'Free speech' defence. Mind you - from what the Izzie hears - there's no need to run a special competition as nasty anti Jewish or anti Christian cartoons and booklets - even the Protocols of the Elders of Zion are widely available in much of the Middle East.
If you want respect for your beliefs, then you have to also give it to the beliefs of others and if that is not acceptable because yours is the one true way and they are infidels, then needless to say, the others will probably view yours in just the same way.
