They changed the security code on the doors at work again today. The management does this occasionally for (a) security reasons and (b) for the hell of it. Personally, I don’t care what management does as long as I never again in this lifetime have to be a law office manager. I did it for seven years before coming here and becoming the “calendar girl” and it was a miserable job. If my current bosses want me to type hanging from the ceiling on one of those saloon girl swings, I’ll do it. Just don’t make me manage anyone.
That being said, I hate it when they change the security code. It takes me approximately 42 entry attempts before the new 3-number code becomes second nature to me and that is precisely when they change it again. This time, I decided I would outsmart the suckers. I wrote the code on the palm of my left hand with a Sharpie. However, when I went to the restroom a while ago and tried to come back in, I automatically punched in the old code. When you punch the numbers, they beep. So everyone on the inside of the door hears you beeping 15 times rather than the normal 3 times. That’s not the bad part. Not only had I forgotten the new code, I had forgotten that I had written it on my hand. Can you believe these people pay me to work here?