Wednesday, March 20, 2002

I appear to have somehow completed my work here. It's a bit strange, going from 'can you get it done by 6pm today' to this strange, sudden silence which is truly unnerving. My last day here will be next Thursday - 28th March 2002 - which would probably account for why I'm not given anymore work to do ( duh ). I'm supposed to just kick back and relax until I leave the gates of the company for good. Or until QA finds the bugs in our program and send it back to us 'to be remedied, pronto'. Yes, I am leaving, but that doesn't mean I'm going to shirk my duties here. Not that there's any duty to shirk at the moment.

Mr. Gregory North, our resident security expert, has a boil growing out of his throat. If it grows any bigger, he'll start looking like an X-File himself.

Mulder:What do you think, Scully? Is he infected with some kind of unknown virus, or could he be an alien himself?
Scully:I really don't know, Mulder. But the evidence does seem to point to the latter.
Doggett:If you ask me, agents, I say we blow the son of a bitch to hell and ask questions later.
Reyes:( gently ) No one's asking you, John.

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