Being bad...or thoughts about work

*cuz she simply cannot resist*
Yes, I am at work, and technically, not supposed to be here I guess...but *shrugs* Hell with it. Gotta survive the day somehow;)
And just how did I get on anyway, one might ask, being that my password's not internet-enabled?
Hah! *whistles innocently*
*looks around the place* Ugh. I guess a Ford plant isn't built for aesthetics, but *damn*, this place truly is ugly. The outside isn't so bad; they've made an attempt at gardens and trees and things, and it borders on a forest and has a few small meadows full of wildflowers. Don't get me wrong; it's still not pleasant. What I truly refer to, however, is the inside of the plant. Simply amazing; I don't think I've ever worked in a place that's so disturbing on so many levels; environmentally, physically, and personally. I'm more sensitive than those I work with to the noise-levels, among other things, and it's odd-if I don't wear earplugs, the noise will actually creep me out after awhile! Not to mention, it *stinks*. Constantly. Of unspeakable substances, substances that could kill. And those are some of the good places, places I'll go into, though it's despicably disgusting. There are places in this plant that are worse than that, places I hate having to go into, and then, still worse, there are places I simply refuse to go into. This job just isn't worth going into them for. Not many, and they don't really seem worse than those others...but apparently something makes enough of a distinction, there.

It's not all bad. I do like most of the people I work with. Sometimes.
Supervisor needs to get a clue, but..I've never met one that doesn't.