Welcome to my happily ever after...
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Terror on Ward One
Oh dear...today is going to be boring as hell. I'm going to rely on something I've done for about 25 years to spice things up. When I was watching TV this morning while getting dressed for work, I watched part of the True Hollywood Story of Farrah Fawcett on E! It reminded me of how in grade school when I'd pretend that I was a child prodigy spy that was sent back to school (not unlike Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed...only I was a spy and not a reporter) to infiltrate the secret crime gangs. Somehow it made things seem much more glamorous than they really were. I always hated school for the simple reason that I found it boring. I could read when I was 2, do long division when I was 5. On the first day of kindergarten, my teacher was telling the class about the tadpole we had in a fishbowl in our room. At one point, she got her facts wrong about how the tadpole would slowly change into a frog, and at that point I raised my hand and corrected her. When she asked how I knew this, I looked her squarely in the eye and told her "I looked it up in the encyclopedia...". In fact, whenever something interested me like frogs or snakes, I'd read anything I could get my hands on about the topic.
Anywho, my teacher didn't believe me, and that night she called my parents and told them that I created a ruckus in her class and had refuted something that she said. She also said I'd lied and told her that I was looking things up in the encyclopedia, and was astounded when my mother told her that I'd been doing that for close to two years. I guess that she didn't take my mother's word for it, and the following week I was given a bunch of reading and arithmetic tests. I was then removed from her class and was sent to special reading and math classes. Then the next year they moved me up two grades, so when all the other kids were starting first grade, I was now in third grade. If you want to instantly lower a kid's self esteem, move them up into classes where you are two years younger....I think I'm still scarred from that nonsense. The other kids were HORRIBLE to me. As a result, I had to learn how to draw strength from inside ME. I had to have my fun alone...within myself. That led to my secret identity. In fact, my diary name Jonathan came from my real identity. Everyone else knew me as XXXXX XXXXXXXXX, but my real name was Jonathan Smith. XXXXX XXXXXXXXX was just my alias.
So this job here at the hospital is just a secret assignment to infiltrate and find out what is going on. Seeing as how on Charlie's Angels, they sure looked through a ton of file cabinets, I've definitely been doing that here. I hope to find something juicy soon. It's like that episode from Season One called "Terror on Ward One" where they pretend to be nurses to find who's killing the nurses, I'm doing the same. Only I don't wear white nurse shoes and carry a gun in my bra.
I sure hope Charlie finds me a new assignment soon. I'm just about sick of this place.
8:36 a.m. - 2003-11-10
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