You may be tired, but I could have died

So we do occasionally travel out of town on business in this department. Not often, but it happens. Which brings me to a tale that clearly exemplifies how much my supervisor believes that everything is about her:
Travelling in small town, staying in a motel. Some idiot throws a burning cigarette into a trash can. Fire ensues. Alarms in the middle of the night, trucks come in the end one room is moderately burnt and by the end of it all water logged.

I, in my own room, with the gift of sleep (merci, papa!) slept through the whole thing.

Over breakfast the next day, everyone talking about the fire my supervisor is angry - yes, angry! - at me because I got a good night's sleep whereas her beauty rest was broken and she never really got back to sleep after that. Hence her tiredness and really it was all so UNFAIR that I got a good nights sleep.

She didn't see anything wrong with the fact that standing in the parking lot of small town hotel it somehow never occurred to her to tell someone that I wasn't there. I did ask, she shrugged her shoulders. I guess she was too tired to think about her answer when people asked if anyone was missing anyone.

Think before you name

Working in government one tends to see a lot of groups, committees, etc. with unfortunate names. I'm sure you've all seen groups that could have had a better name, something that said what the group was all about, what its goals were, its mandate.

What group name made me think about this topic? I am working on records from the Thrust and Probe Committee. I don't know what they do. Something to do with teeth, I think. But that's not the point. The point is that this name should NEVER have been allowed. IMHO

How much in Doggy Years?

In people years it takes about three minutes (in the winter when there is snow to negotiate) to take garbage out to the garbage bin and then roll the bin to the street for pick up. How much time in doggy years? Long enough to eat a three pound fruitcake. Minus one tiny slice.

Yup, dad got his fruitcake, my sister and her husband got theirs, my customer's got theirs but mine...mine was pelicanned down by the dog (or possibly dogs, but I think the little one is innocent this time) when I took the garbage out on the morning of Christmas eve. So no comments from you lot should I decided to get rid of the dogs. Instead I will expect murmurs of kind understanding.