One Who Wanders (abiona) wrote,
One Who Wanders

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New Adventures in Bad Handwriting and Office Perspectives

They recently gave me yet more yellow forms to enter, which brought this total stack up to about seven inches. I was under the impression that they were supposed to be entered on a daily basis so things would never get backed up so far, but here they are, and here I am.

Mr. Knows came into my closet today and gave me yet another task, one that I would share with a new worker. It is an entirely new database, and two drawers full of unorganized information must be entered by end of business day Wednesday. I smiled and said "Of course!," but my shoulders grew tense and in my heart, I was wondering why the hell could they not have brought this up sooner? I cannot recall any other not-for-profit I worked or volunteered for being this last minute.

This second database draws upon material that seems to have been written in one hand. It is something like the Holy Grail of bad handwriting, for it manages to make the letters A, C, E, F, G and R look exactly the same, and N and M are now these weird blocky structures that require much guesswork to identify. Every scribble is square in shape, and the ink is rather old and not so very sharp. The days of Kevin Crown (actually Karen) and jolie arid jaw barely compare.

Me: This fellow has a B.A. in ... what the?

I could not think of a possible equivalent to what I saw, though I studied the runes most carefully. I arose to consult the new coworker.

Me: Take a look at this. It seems like he's got a B.A. in spinach, but that can't be right. What does it look like to you?
Her: ... it looks ... like spinach! I think that's an S ...

She spent a few moments attempting to decipher the mysterious degree.

Her: Well, he doesn't have a B.A. in spelling!
Me: ............... I think I'll just enter B.A.
Her: I just say "college."
Me: Good enough.

It can't be science ... sociology is too long ... I swear, it looked like spinach. Maybe he's an agriculturalist?


Someone then wanted me to help with an invitation and a poster. While this required working in Microsoft Publisher, it practically felt like the light at the end of the tunnel! But then I quashed that impulse, for no matter how much I want to escape data entry, logic dictates that both incomplete databases have much higher priority. I put the graphics in my personal queue.

I ran into this fellow after lunch, and as I wanted a more specific timeframe, I asked him about his deadline (it was, of course, come and gone). There was still no way I could accomplish his task immediately, so I said that I would be finished with the most needy database by Wednesday afternoon, could he wait 'til then? Mrs. Midboss walked by, and that word ... database ... it was like some sort of trigger. How far are you? What remains to be done? How long do you think it will take?

I responded as honestly as I could, and received a Look of Doom.

I was immediately shaken! Ever since the 15 Hour Grant Crash fiasco, I've been somewhat cynical about Mrs. Midboss' behavior. Why was she mad at me now? My super power may be typing at the speed of light, but I am still human, and a pile of paper that would break an elephant's back and two drawers of files to analyze and enter will take time. Do I have to get back on the caffeine habit?

Mrs. Midboss visited my closet later, and my take on the Look of Doom was, apparently, inaccurate. It was not meant for me, but rather for the activities that seem to be pulling me in many directions at once. She was worried that I might be getting stressed. I have a natural inclination towards going in many directions at once, it is true ... but "hopeless" is not really the same as "stressed!" I grinned and shifted the subject a wee bit. I said the only thing that bugged me was when people would submit blank forms (what use is a birth record without, oh, say, the infant's name, date of birth, weight, all of the above, etc.?).

... there's no way to make this sort of stuff interesting, is there? Oh well. This one is mostly for my records, anyway!

In FFXI news, I'm a {Plantoid Killer}. I'm not logging in regularly these days, and so my in-game gardening attempts are just going to hell. Good thing it's Nalili attempting to grow randomness with vegetable seeds, and not Wenwren attempting to raise ore or something expensive via tree cuttings!

My copy of "Last Blood" is still missing. What the heck? I'm the only one in the house who knows of Blade of the Immortal so chances that it has been borrowed are slim, and it's not like Earl Grey could eat an entire book without me noticing. Maybe it's in a drawer somewhere ...

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