Friday, October 14, 2011

Idiot move ... and Casso gets pwned in footnote 4a

I've had 12 file boxes of filing to file since late 2009.

For those of you not in government you will not understand the governance we have to meet with shit like this. Even in the private sector they would have likely binned it. But they're official records of an utterly useless and costly burdensome admin process I was forced to endure by Backy McStab some years back and they have to be kept for a certain number of years.

Our new building is less secure than the old one. So we have to clean desk pretty much everything. My boxes filled with official records were being grumped at about by my managers. I indicated it was a big chore—hence why it had not yet been done—but they kept on about it. My boss even offered to help with it but she's so under the pump, and works part time, that it's not a realistic offer. The others in my team are similarly busy.

So today I started the process. I got super organised. I even searched our internal website for the rules on how thick a file could be and crafted a file thickness guide out of cardboard—filling in the max depth with my fluoro-yellow highlighter and naturally smearing ink all over my desk. It ended up looking like a Predator had cut a slash there.

I liberated the paper drill from upstairs (1) and set it up on the long useful desk by the window. Then, armed with the largest bull dog clips I could find, I started the preparation process.

Not only that but I started with the hard stuff first—preparing the samples. We had numerous samples provided as part of the said burdensome administration process. Samples which were assessed in the selection reports and therefore, even though no one will ever, ever actually look at these records, ever ... they have to be filed. So I was drilling through cardboard, brochures, thick magazines, giant reports, and hundreds of varying-in-slickness A4 glossy sheets. Bundling them up, I then had to pinch each to-be-filed-pile together, then try to squeeze the bull dog clip to hold it all in place. It was frustrating and annoying.

I kept going until I ran out of clips. I even had to put out a building-wide email call for more.

Thus I spent most of the working day in filing preparation. Having fueled my gizzards with my usually-had-on-Saturday-mornings-breakfast of an open-topped bacon and egg pie plus creme brule chaser I worked through lunch and into the afternoon. I only paused to print sticky labels and to download NPR podcasts to listen to while I worked.

By three thirty (2) my boneitus had flared. It was only then I realised I'd been on my feet most of the day and putting my full weight upon my left hip.

And remember. I weigh a lot. I am basically an apple with gorgeous calf muscles.

I had intended, when finished, to then move on to grabbing a bunch of work to take home but the pain of my hip—and I'd foolishly forgotten to re-supply my Honest Abdul's Partially Used Pill Emporium collection of pharmacopeia (3) in my desk drawer—was too great. I packed up and left, my leg dragging behind me like McClane at the end of Die Hard.

I had to ingest super meds the moment I got home and the launch myself onto The Purgatory Cart (4) to get it over and done with lest my willpower sag and I not want to do it.

So all up, that was a dodgy move on my part. I should have taken long breaks and I should have done it piecemeal. Not in a big most-of-the-day-standing stretch.

Still ... lesson learned. And if experience is any indicator my hip is going to hurt like a mother-fuck for the next three days and will thus serve as a lesson learned reminder.

Good one, Memo (5)

(1) Ah, the paper drill, long a bane of my white collar world. In the early years of my career the only available paper drill was near dead and the hollow drill bit would become jammed with half-charred punch-out circles (1a). We would try and poke the jammed circles out using a stretched-out paper clip but the compaction was too tight and you'd end up using the clip's tip to scrape out wedges of circles that would spill in small clumps, fused together by charring heat. Fuck I hated that drill. The one in my current office is a good one. The bit doesn't get jammed. Instead it's a cylinder and the punch-out circles fly out the top and into a domed clear-plastic blister (1b) atop the unit.
(1a) When us brothers still played together we decided that punch-out circles from hole punches would be currency in our game universe. So we had these mass hole punch money making sessions. We soon worked out that our game universe had been hit by hyper inflation as per something from the like-afflicted Weimer Republic.
(1b) It looks like
the fully enclosed dice blister (slash) popper you get in some board games. For us it was in the game Trouble. I loved playing that game. TheWife, currently monitoring theBoy in the bath due to my flared boneitus, has confirmed she also had the game and enjoyed playing it.
(2) Remember as a kid and how the school day ended at that time of day? How awesome was that?! Why can't we do that in real life?
(3) Honest Abdul's INSERT GOOD-TYPE HERE is my Red Apple Cigarettes from nerd games. If there's a shopping expedition involved in a pen and paper gaming adventure I am running then chances are Honest Abdul's is an option. For example in my Eberron campaign it's Honest Abudul's Partially-Charged Wand Emporium (3a) He's usually and excitable merchant desperate to make a deal and always shouting and pleading for custom in my best over-the-top-Hollywood caricature of an ethnic-in-origin-bazaar-stall-proprietor; 'Please, my friend, you must buy! I will throw in a camel.'
In that campaign Honest Abdul is Half-Mercane. This is how nerdy I am ... I created my own game mechanics for his racial abilities.
(4) Owned by Casso ... yadda, yadda, yadda. (4a)
(4a) Casso and I have similar tastes in things. However we differ in one key area. She does not like Seinfeld. How can you not like Seinfeld? Actually, while I think of it, we differ in another key area. We do not share the genetic impulse to make big eyes at firemen or to enjoy them in a two-dimensional monthly format. Boo! Boo!
(5) Huh, I always thought it was 'Mimo'. Well, there you go. How embarrassment.


  1. Pfft. Seinfeld.


  2. How can you not like the Sein?

    He's adorable!

    Plus ... I am a lot like George.

  3. I've explained this before, but for the kiddies at home, I don't like it because the characters are totally unsympathetic and a lot of the humour is derived from mocking others.


No comments needed, really.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.