Other people's business

Here at work, we have a spurious department known as "Facilities". I say spurious, as it's sole purpose (as far as I can make out), is to monitor really really important stuff such as the use of the welfare room (an overly-warm, windowless pit of despair where those lacking the imagination to think of anywhere else to go during their lunch hour go to reheat last night's dinner and gaze blankly at the local news on the telly while trying not to notice that bloke who's in there every day and still can't figure out that nobody wants to hear him eating); where the plants are positioned and, most importantly, the fridges. Every so often, a very important missive from said Facilities department plops into the inbox of everyone in the company, to berate us on the state of the fridges that are lavishly provided in order that we don't collectively expire from eating slightly warm cheese sandwiches. Today's was exhorting those who have forgotten that three week old lamb casserole or whatever, which is now gently rotting at the back of a shelf, to clear it the fuck out RIGHT NOW. Not in those exact words, obviously, but the obsessive-compulsive busybody who uses the "Facilities" tag to treat us all like children is not a person to be crossed. This is the same person who was observed only a few days ago wandering up and down the office bashing aircon vents with a spoon, muttering and twitching. Issues, anyone?? At what point does a person become so obsessed with controlling their environment that they are unable to restrain themselves from mailing everyone in the company to remind them that, when heating soup in the microwave, they should cover it with a plate to avoid spillage? Or to patrol the various floors of the office sniffing out those who dare breach the "no hot food at your desk" rule, and spraying them with air freshener. I kid you not - that happened to a friend of mine about 3 weeks ago.

Sometimes I worry about how much I worry about this stuff. At the moment there are about 4 really important things I ought to be doing; instead I'm posting a rant about an email about a fridge.

Sigh.