supervisor

The factory of love encompasses all, but on some days, does it seem to be one of suffocation, squeezing its target too tightly? And on other days not tight enough? Or maybe that is the breath of a living love knowing when to protect, when to release, and when to protect again. For we are the products of an active love - the Father the creator, the Son the perfecter, the Spirit the supervisor - but just like in a factory, to deny the process is to ultimately create a defect of oneself.

We got to see a Corsair ship up close _ all matt black, no markings, no lights _ and practically invisible out here in the dark! What a sight to behold! Most people don__ get to see those bastards up close. That is, for very long! Anyways, the ship was just floating there, no sign of life. Our hails weren__ being answered, and so we assumed the ship was dead in space. Captain Mulligan, gods-rest-his-soul, told me to form a boarding party of security and medics from the sickbay and that we were going over there. We weren__ a military ship, and we__e not Star Marines, so we were lightly armed and quite nervous. I mean, this wasn__ just some of my security section being called out to break up a fight at one of the bars on the promenade, this was serious life-and-death shit! So I said __kay_, and told my assistant supervisor, Lisa Garfner, to get them all together. Seven of us shifted over to the other ship with the transmatter (you still use those things, I take it?) not knowing what to expect. It could__e been anything_ and it was. It was crazy.

The TSA liked having fresh agents on the job. Fresh agents with a clear mind and steady hand. Time travel wasn__ for the faint of heart. The pay was good though, but as Scrooby had decided long ago, that even if he didn__ get paid for it, the thrill alone was payment enough. Then again, the TSA realized they couldn__ afford to have disgruntled employees with too much time on their hands and the power of the gods at their fingertips, so the pay was very, very good. Debriefing was routine. And how he hated routine! His supervisor was a senior agent called Guy Krummeck, a rather drab character who liked his shiny silver suits almost as much as he liked to go over every little detail at least three times. Minimum. This time everything went right, so it went quick. Twenty minutes later, tired, he clocked out and went home to his small apartment. Tomorrow, after all, was another day again.

In some cases, you can tell how somebody is being treated by their own boss from the way they are treating someone to whom they are a boss.

My mentors inspired and encourage to fulfill my highest potential.

When you realize that incompetent police officers are harassing you, you need to call 911 and demand that a police supervisor be immediately dispatched to the scene. In the mean time you need to be video recording everything, as police officers are known for their blatant lies and fabrications.