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My Life isn't a Parnoid-Inducng Spy Movie, Either
So, the other night I get home and go into the mailroom to grab my mail. I always make a point of checking the package room, just to make sure that the mailman didn't forget to put a slip in my box, you know?
So I go in and start looking around on the package shelf, looking for my apt number. Wasn't anything up there, but the checking includes making sure there aren't any larger boxes on the floor or anything in the bag on the hanger for my overflow mail ...
There wasn't, but then I noticed an index card sitting face up on the footstool that's left in the package room for the short little old ladies so they can reach the package shelf.
There's some letters and numbers on the card, and at first I didn't really pay a lot of attention to it.
Then, as I was turning around to leave it clicked and I was like "WTF???!!"
The two things written on the index card were the account name (which is a nonsensical letter and number combination) and the password for a website that we use at the nuthouse to check insurance eligibility.
Letter for letter. And/Or number.
Mine.
Well, not mine-mine, but my hospital's mine. Possibly even my department's mine, I don't know if billing has their own account and password or there's one for the whole facility.
But here's the WTF-ness.
Nobody that I work with lives here.
NOBODY.
None of the patients do either.
So ... where did this index card come from?
My department doesn't even have index cards.
Seriously.
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