CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!!!

Some journal entries should never be shared with the vast public, but I found this one particularly telling of my true-self...enjoy.


Today I am troubled by incompetence.
Today is a voting day. I even wore my voting day t-shirt (yes I really have a voting day t-shirt). Today is the first day I will cast my vote as Marri GLANNON! This is a very exciting day for me. As I approached the registration table, I scanned over the women dutifully volunteering their time to aide in democracy. Not one of those women were under 70. I found my line, based on my new last name, and trustingly thrust my driver's license into the hands of the poll worker. After watching her flip back and forth 5 times, (not 3, not 6, but 5 times) I politely informed her that she was skipping a page. She eventullay found our trio, seemingly reluctant to do so, and with my ID in hand, she spoke in my direction, "So you are Janet?"
Does it say Janet on my id? I know there are a plethora of names there but none of them started with a 'J' nor ended with a 'T'.
"No, I am Marri." as I pointed to my name. Does the fate of our presidential election really depend on the work of this woman who can't read no matter how many pairs of spectacles hung on her neck?
Incompetence.
Then to school--where my lunch was undercooked and doughy. Blech! Even us vegetarians have standards.
Incompetence.
I returned to the cafeteria, where the nicest of women work, and was satisfied to have it re-cooked. As I sat eating my now burnt and somehow still undercooked pizza, I noticed the man who is usually cleaning the lunch tables was absent. He is a friendly man, a little weird but always says 'hi' and is never inconvenienced to do his less-than-pleasent job. There was however someone in his place. A larger and less friendly man staring up at the TV as the trash cans around him overflowed with past meal carnage. Napkins littered the floor, all vacated tables paid tribute to their last occupants containing puddles of soda or catsup or 'leavings' of some kind.
Again with the incompetence.
After finally finding a receptacle that wasn't pregnant with garbage, I headed to te ladies room. Only one toilet remained unflushed. Blech again! How do people not flush a toilet? I will not bore with the details of what took place in the stall but upon washing my hands I met senor Incomptence yet again...
Although there was ample counter space not a centimeter of dry land could be found. "Were these people raised in a barn?"--I heard someone in my childhood say. I wiped it down, rest my luggage and turned on the sink. Well, I tried to turn on the sink. It was one of those automatic faucets---by the way I hate those. There I was in the bathroom throwing every hand gesture I could think of to get that precioous H2O to blanket my skin.
I guess man is not alone in his incompetence.