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No backup

Today I wound up doing the check-in position all by myself. It's a lot more exciting when you're doing it and you realize that really, no one else is looking over your shoulder to make sure you're doing it right, and you know everything you're supposed to do (well, actually, I spaced the 800 number message checking, but that's a small thing), and everything gets done.

My only real question for the shift was, "Say a phone goon thinks he might be having a heart attack, what do we do?" Ponytail-Guy Former Monitor (the one who throws Mormon gang signs) was feeling like hell. Pink Shirt Guy ran me through the procedures: first, ask if they want us to call them 911. Next, encourage them to seek medical attention. Finally, send them home (sick).

Fortunately, the guy started looking decidedly healthier. I was concerned, though.

Today was the end of the month, and stuff was due to finish up. Amazingly enough, all quotas were filled before the scheduled end of shift, and the interviewers were packed up and sent off home before I was even done with my paperwork. As it was, the Pink Shirt Guy and I were out of there by 10:30, which is a good hour or two sooner than usual.

I went grocery shopping, and found myself a $0.94 clipboard to stuff in my bag so I'll have a clipboard of my OWN for when I need one at work. To distinguish mine from all the other clipboards hanging around there, not only is it a different style (the clip is different), but I've put my name on it ("Joan L's Clipboard") and am decorating it to suit myself (yet still be work-safe). The front says "Inexplicable Clipboard of DOOM!", and has little cute illustrations: a cloud, some stars, some raindrops or teardrops, and a shiny gem. (Yes, the illustrations are at the four quarters of the clipboard, making the thing a handy portable altar with preset elemental representations. Heh.)

In other cheerful news, Motley is still training to be a monitor. She's going ARGH. It's very difficult for me to call her by her mundane name in the workplace to keep up appearances. There was a monitor meeting today, and people had a lot of things to say. I may have impressed the Pink Shirt Guy by being able to recite back to him who-all was at the meeting, complete with seating arrangements, and only a few people missed by name from the lineup, though I was able to indicate to him that there were people there whose names I wasn't clear on.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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