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Sep. 4th, 2002 12:01 amEarlier tonight I found myself in the middle of the following conversation with my mother:
Me: So, you see, if the couch here is the bookshelf behind my desk, this is how far the files go out (holds hand eighteen inches from edge of couch). Lengthwise! That's how many there are to be filed! And they just keep appearing! And, you know, I can't file them in the filing room down the hall until I finish my dictation because it's the stuff I'm dictating that will eventually have to be put in the files behind me. Because everything dictated has to be copied twice and then filed away at the end of the day, but I never have time because --
And then I realized what I was saying and threw myself down on the couch and writhed around in self-loathing over just how boring I had become. How? How has this happened? How could a story about FILING have made it past the storytelling sensors? Clearly this job is completely throwing it out of whack if my internal monitors decided that yes, other people would actually care about the challenges I face while filing.
Today at work the woman I'm replacing came in with her baby, who is just beyond cute. She had to pick up Mr. Boss's timesheets and while she was there made ominous comments about perhaps not coming back (daycare is so crazy expensive that I don't know how it could be worth it), and Mr. Boss was all, "But you HAVE to come back!!!" He sounded truly desperate, which was a nice ego boost for yours truly standing three feet away. I'd have been insulted if I wasn't thinking the same thing. Because really, it's true. She has to come back. I mean, it's not that I'm not trying! I'm just not that good!
Oh well.
Time for bed. Perhaps there will be more wacky filing adventures tomorrow. Aren't you excited!!
Me: So, you see, if the couch here is the bookshelf behind my desk, this is how far the files go out (holds hand eighteen inches from edge of couch). Lengthwise! That's how many there are to be filed! And they just keep appearing! And, you know, I can't file them in the filing room down the hall until I finish my dictation because it's the stuff I'm dictating that will eventually have to be put in the files behind me. Because everything dictated has to be copied twice and then filed away at the end of the day, but I never have time because --
And then I realized what I was saying and threw myself down on the couch and writhed around in self-loathing over just how boring I had become. How? How has this happened? How could a story about FILING have made it past the storytelling sensors? Clearly this job is completely throwing it out of whack if my internal monitors decided that yes, other people would actually care about the challenges I face while filing.
Today at work the woman I'm replacing came in with her baby, who is just beyond cute. She had to pick up Mr. Boss's timesheets and while she was there made ominous comments about perhaps not coming back (daycare is so crazy expensive that I don't know how it could be worth it), and Mr. Boss was all, "But you HAVE to come back!!!" He sounded truly desperate, which was a nice ego boost for yours truly standing three feet away. I'd have been insulted if I wasn't thinking the same thing. Because really, it's true. She has to come back. I mean, it's not that I'm not trying! I'm just not that good!
Oh well.
Time for bed. Perhaps there will be more wacky filing adventures tomorrow. Aren't you excited!!
