Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

I have fancied some ideas on which to base some revenge toward people you work with. Should you become disgruntled, this may be a safe approach. These thoughts came running out of my mind like a water pistol shooting a moving plastic duck at the state fair. Or something like that.
1) Don't wear deodorant-better yet, get a little onion and wipe it under your arms, go to work
2) Don't brush you teeth for two days, eat meat mostly, go to work
3) While at work keep whistling the little tune "the worms crawl in the worms crawl out" over &
over, soon everyone will be doing it, even on the trip home.
4) Keep telling people "somebody moved my pen" every 5 minutes
5) Sniffle, sniffle, sniffle. I think my son does this to get back at me, IT WORKS! Sniffle
6) If your fortunate to answer the phone and you don't have a clue what they want, put them on
hold and tell someone "this call is for you". This is great in a psych hospital
7) Go find the vacuum cleaner, start vacuuming. If anyone complains tell them, "You may
live like this at home, but not me".
8) If someone is asking you a questions and a coworker comes out and is in your sights, point
and say he/she probably doesnt know, I'll try and find out. Say this softly so they don't hear.
They will ask you, why were you pointing at me? Say "I don't remember"
9) Floss your teeth at work in front of everyone-especially if you didn't brush them
10) Consider sabatoge:
A: Tape a piece of shrimp in the area where someone works, hid it real good!
B: Find some dog poo or cow poo (whatever) get some water mix just a little and pour it into
the mouthpiece of their phone. Only the smell will be left.
C: Talk on the phone and metion a persons name, then begin to whisper
D: On paper work you find, put the persons name you have a problem with saying for
example: "Terry did this one". Even if there is nothing wrong.
E: If you talk to someone who seems irritated ask them if they took their medicine
F: Stand next to the person and pretend they let out a real stinker. Start waving in the air
toward them, slowly walk away, telling them "I'll come back".
The last one may be a bit much. So, anyways. My thoughts. More to come.

Once upon a time there was a bear. It was brown, furry and had buttons for eyes. It was almost 2 feet tall and an obvious "Made in China" tag on it's back side. This little bear had a friend, well a companion may be more appropriate. Her name was Lizzy. Everyday you could find bear always within Lizzy's sights. She would carefully tuck bear in his pre-assigned place each night before retiring. Sometimes, Lizzy would even put bear in bed with her, but this was only when Lizzy did not feel happy. Lately, bear spent many nights in bed with Lizzy. Bear had become sad over time. He was being squeezed and hugged and was wet from the tears of Lizzy. He was being taken to places he did not wish to go. Lizzy seemed to always be in trouble. Bear would hear her talk on the phone with friends and cry. He could sometimes hear her friends trying to convince her that things were not that bad. Lizzy, still made it a point to describe the terrible events in her life on a daily basis. She would call a friend or she would tell bear. She would tell the people she lived with as well, but she would tell them differently. She would sometimes scream and yell. Bear did not like this. Bear liked it best at night, when things were quiet and Lizzy was asleep. Well, one morning Lizzy woke up, and chewy (the dog) had taken bear for a walk. It was not just an ordinary walk like the one Lizzy goes on, it was to the back yard. The corner of the yard, deep in the covered bushes where the bones of dead animals had the teeth marks seared into the marrow. Bear was scared. He heard the a cry from the house and Chewy ran fast back into the house. He must have thought it was play time. It was not play time. It was the scream of Lizzy. Bear did not like those screams. They happened alot, even for little things. Bear remembered the story of chicken little and how "the sky was falling" and that Lizzy's screams largely went unanswered. "This time" thought bear "I hope someone listens to her". "Get ready for school" came the command from the mother of Lizzy, "don't pull this now, Elizabeth Charlotte Brandish" as if to make it more serious. Lizzy kept yelling, "bear is gone, bear is gone, we gotta find bear". "You will find bear later, right now you get dressed and go to school, I'll be late so hurry!" Lizzy retorted "I gotta find bear". Chewy knew bear, he knew where he slept, he knew that Lizzy spent alot of time with bear. Chewy tried to go comfort Lizzy and walked over to her, jumping on her hip. "not now Chewy, I need to find bear". Chewy was persistent thinking "I am right here, pay attention to me, that bear might taste good", "look at me". Lizzy demanded that Chewy leave her alone and so he did. He decided he was off the hook. He trotted toward the doggy door and made his way to his favorite hidding place, in the corner, neath the bushes, where his latest trophy lay there, waiting. One paw on his chest, his teeth clamped on his head. Chewy knew, that inside this bear was something good. Bear first felt the top of his head rip off, split off, like a scalping. Then, chewing began to sniff the stuffing inside bears head. Chewy knew that sometimes things taste better than they smell. He had experienced this from his own dog food. Days after he went to the bathroom, he found that event this had a different taste than what it looked like. So, he pulled with his teeth, the brain matter of stuffing from bear with the same void of emotion as Hanibel Lecter. Quickly, he realized it did not taste like anything. In fact, Chewy thought "this tastes like nothing". So, he ran back into the house. The same rejection awaited as he experienced before. He marched back to the remains of bear and thought "maybe it can do something fun" So he put bear in his mouth, and swooshed him back and forth. "Sure enough" thought Chewy "things are coming out of him" with great satisfaction, Chewy swung bears torso with more vigor than before, until finally his disembowled empty carcass lay there. Now Chewy knew why Lizzy had so much fun with bear. He tried to bring bear back into Lizzy to show her that he had feelings and fun with bear. Lizzy had gone to school, so Chewy took bear to the stairs and left him on the top step. She would be so happy that Chewy bonded with bear. Chewy knew exactly what time Lizzy came home, so he ran upstairs and grabbed bear. When she came home, bear would be right there so she would want to play with both of them. "That would be fair and I would get attention too" thought Chewy. The keys jiggled in the front door. Chewy was salivating all over bears remains. His tale wagging. He could hardly wait. The door opens and chewy jumped up on Lizzys hip as he always done, so happy, so excited and out came a blood curdling scream. Chewy knew something had gone wrong. At first he barked thinking someone bad was in the house, but then he heard "Chewy, bear, bad". He ran out the door, his tale could not wag between his legs. He darted to his favorite place, beneath the hedges, the bushes in the back corner of the yard. At night, you could hear Chewy howling and barking. The other dogs responded as if to convince him that things were not that bad. Besides, they lived outside and they liked it. Lizzy was not home for a very long time. She had disappeared for 2 weeks, but for Chewy it was 3 months (14 weeks in dogs time). The doggie door remained closed. He knew his life was changing. He knew. As time went by, Chewy could hear that familiar screaming from Lizzy and wondered if the cat might be joining him, or the turtle, or perhaps the fish. Well, years drifted and no one joined Chewy. Lizzy had left home. She was really old, and still Chewy did not go into the home. Occasionally, she would come home, usually through the window and leave quickly. The first few times Chewy thought she was coming for him, he would bark and wag his tail. No one ever came to the back yard anymore and she must be visiting him. Lizzy would yell out "shut up Chewy" as she tried to go back to the house she told her parents she hated. Chewy knew the word hate. She told him over and over how she hated him and he knew it was a bad word because he saw her angry face. Lizzy would sometimes come back with friends, mostly boys, Chewy did not like them. He would growl and Lizzy would tell them "its ok". The boys looked like they lived in the corner of someone elses yard. "They look like me" thought chewy. Chewy felt very weak and had very little strength to jump into the back of the truck. But the collar (which he never liked) tightened if he did not do what the man commanded him to do. Chewy did not know him, but he didn't care. He made it in the back. It smelled like other dogs, but wait, he smelled cats too! He finally got the attention from Lizzy's parents, they waved at him and said "Boy, Chewy, Boy". He was happy, they were waiving and began to bark and wag his tail. The truck drove off and there he was, so happy he finally got attention.

"Where is my crazy sister"

A young schizophrenic girl arrived two days ago. She was quite distraught, angry, paranoid and needless to say frightened. She came with her family which included her sister and both biological parents. One of the obtuse elderly nurses went out to assess her. It quickly appeared to her that this patient was actively psychotic. She was seeing dead people, hearing voices telling her to kill others and the gamet of symptoms. This required and called for admissions to the hospital. She wouldn't stay. Her sister began to accuse the nurses of raping her sister even prior to admissions. The elderly nurse began to get angry, but I put my hand on her shoulder and gave her the relax, calm down look. I later pointed out that we actually had two patients, the lady who came for assessment and her sister who was "acting out" in the day room. The comments she made were disurbing - to put in mildly. The situation was quickly getting out of control. The patient was screaming in the room, pounding on the wall and coming out to the lobby in an attempt to "kill that lady" referring to her mother. She then hit her father repeatedly, violently and pushed him to get out of her way. Quickly, I ascertained that we needed separation and the other sister, needed to get out of the building. Her yelling was making the psychotic sister worse. There are a couple thoughts on this I felt profound enough to share in a serious/humorous way.
The sister that made accusations and tried to come to her (patients) rescue was way out of place and more than likely has mental health issues of her own, but the venomous point she was trying to make, though disturbing, was with such tenacity it called for reward or punishment. It was best to ignore it, for if I even so much as looked at her, she would recognize that she was rewarded for this behavior. Still, I listened - peripherally as I spoke with the mother. Keeping a calm voice in a sea of madness around me. I gestured to the mother to sit down, and briefly to the sister. We all sat and things got quiter. I kept thinking about this sister. How she wanted what was best for her Ill sister. Her misperceptions and harmful conclusions were inept, but her zeal was impressive. I would have rather her venom be poisoned with truth, but in her impotent way she clung to her bond with her sister. An advocate? See, in times when you are unable to defend yourself, wouldn't it be nice? An advocate such as this. The diary of a mad black woman comes to mind