walk down the memory hallway

Today at work I walked around and taped room inspection notices on everybody's door, warning everybody that their rooms will be infiltrated and inspected next week by clipboard weilding staff people. Fun. After five years at this job, walking door to door offers me the opportunity for such lovely, nostalgic musings as "Oh, that's the room I found that dead guy in." And, "Ooooh, this is the room CB found the decomposed corpse." And, "This is where me and CB found that one client with the needle sticking out of her arm after she OD'd on heroine." At least that chick didn't die. Yet.

My job is so fucked up and awesome.