Fuckin' Janitors Tossed My Liquids

The cleaning crew at work threw away my coffee creamers and the bottles of apple and grape juice I hadn't finished yet.  There are two refrigerators, and pretty much every other week (although not next week because of the holidays) they're supposed to clean one of them, and they will clean out and throw away anything in the fridge they're cleaning.  I think I lost bottles of creamer once, and about a half-hour after they threw away the sub I just put in a fridge this one time, I frantically asked the janitors if I could have it back.  (I found it, still completely wrapped up, IIRC.  And yes, I ate it.  I paid for it!)

This ... well, this one came as a blindside.  The janitors are supposed to put up a sign in front of the fridge that is supposed to be cleaned out Monday evening the week prior.  Because of that bad memory, I know I always am diligent to move my creamers out of the fridge that will be cleaned and put it in the other one.  But like I said, they don't alternate cleaning every week, and I fucking swear to God that I didn't see a sign last week.  Now, I took Thursday off, and Friday was that shitty day where I got hit with an avalanche of work in The Fourth Department (BTW, it still hasn't abated, and it won't for a while) and then I had to get to the Timberwolves Game, and I didn't work Monday (I blog posted about my off-on schedule here) because I was working the Vikings Game.  I was venting with my supervisor and co-workers late yesterday/Tuesday afternoon about this, and they speculated that the cleaners put up the sign later in the week, like Thursday, and that's why I missed it.  If so, goddammit, that's their fault because they need to give all of us a week's notice.  Shit!

I had three bottles of creamer.  One of them was brand new.  Didn't even open the fucking bottle yet.  And yes, I had two bottles of juice I hadn't completely drank.  But fuckin' A, they were mine.  Those two bottles of juice and three bottles of creamer cost (granted, I think one was nearly empty and one was half-empty) ... oh, $20, $25?  Again, that amount is not like a mortgage, and I drank through a lot of creamer and apple and grape juice up to Monday, and obviously I can't do anything about it now.  But I can't help but look at it in terms of money, and that's money that was fucking taken away from me.  And I think -- no, I'm not 100% certain -- that I got royally fucked because no one put up a notice when they were supposed to.

The thing is, I didn't realize this until the middle of work yesterday, when I had to break away from my desk because the avalanche of work in The Fourth Department kept rolling down on my head.  And that might allude to why I didn't move my stuff (assuming I was given ample warning, which I don't think I got): I was too distracted by other things this time around to notice.  Beyond that, I didn't have time during the rest of my day once I realized I lost my shit to lose my shit because I had work to do.  It's only when I'm dwelling on what I lost -- for example, as I'm writing this -- that I'm pissed off.  For most of the rest of the day, at least until I vented to my supervisor and colleagues, I wasn't pissed because I had other things I had to concentrate on.

And so delving into work, like I will have to do today, might be a good thing because it takes my attention away from being pissed off at the fucking janitors.  I have half a mind to confront them next Monday evening for "stealing" my stuff.  But if I plunge into my work -- and I left yesterday/Tuesday, like Friday, with a ton of work to do even after I gave myself two extra hours at work -- I won't have time to get mad, and therefore I won't do something reckless and futile.  It's the best I can do.

In the meantime, I have to go to Target after work this/Wednesday evening and buy more creamer.