What's up with my boss?

Today I had to process blood in the hood room of another lab in the Center. It was a bit of a hassle because of the crazy lock mechanism on the doors (it takes two hands to open). I had to lug all of the reagents and stuff I needed from one hood room to another all afternoon. And after I started processing I realized that the other lab's centrifuge didn't refrigerate. It only worked at room temperature. I thought I was going to have to spend the afternoon running between three hood rooms because ours was full, I was working in one, and there was a refrigerated one in another hood room. I couldn't use their hoods but I could use their centrifuge. Kiwi was there when I was frantically running from hood room to hood room to hood room. He decided to be useful and told me that the lab used to process blood at room temperature all the time. So, that's what I did. The cells looked okay, just a little haggard at the end of 4 hours but they were alive. I'll see what they look like tomorrow.

While I was starting to process blood, immediately after the centrifuge temperature conversation we had this conversation:

Setting: Me preparing to start blood in the hood, all gowned and gloved and ready to go. Kiwi standing on my side of the BSL2 room door with no protective clothing. Trying to talk to me. I use this as an opportunity to mention the other hood room.

Me: So, did you talk to Incompetent Lab Manager about getting our other hood recertified?

Kiwi: Yeah, last week I sent her an email about it.

(Silence . . . me staring at him saying nothing.)

Kiwi: (hesitantly) Well, I could go ask her again about it. See if we could get things moving along.

Me: (in a tone that says, yeah, you better.) That would be nice.

Kiwi: Okay, I'll get onto that.

Me: Thanks.

(Uncomfortable silence.)

Me: When I have some free time next week . . . well, not really free time, don't have any of that. . . I guess when I have spins and incubations I'll get the other hood room set-up so when the hood is recertified the room is ready to go.

Kiwi: (enthusiastically) Okay, that's sounds good. Let me know when you're going to do it and I'll help you.

Me: (slightly stunned, no words come to mind immediately so . . ) Okay, thanks.

Kiwi: (smile on his face) No problem!

(He leaves the room and I get to work, a bit baffled)

Now he's really starting to scare me. I mean, someone mentioned to me the other day that maybe he's medicated. And in all honesty, I think he might be.