To stand up and down, to bend forward and back, and to open and close the filing drawers make work as a temporary slave-unit tedious, boring and unchallenging. I might have messed up somewhere during this easiest part of the job but I don’t care because I didn’t work hard all these to be under-utilized with dusty files dating back since the 1990’s!
I think I’ve gotten a cold probably from either this old paper system or from the freezing temperature of an office over looking the fountain out front. This means I still don’t have a cubicle of my own and had to keep hiding my DB bag (or black with brown lining) and my glass bottle of water from home.
I still don’t have a badge, which would allow me in the building. I’d have to go up to the receptionist to have her phone my supervisor to escort me into the building. Now, I’ll end up using my cellphone minutes to phone her until one is issued. So I could go into the basebase of dustiness (and probably unseen ghouls) to continue my filing that the full-time employees won’t do.
Any hope for release from the system of paying taxes once and for all is winding down to hopelessness. (By the way, people fighting against taxation and its policies end up either in jail or some sort of sentence — permanently etched on their profile. I know this for a damn fact. Warriors cannot do battle from behind the bars of a jailhouse).
Thanks to the hours of exercising at home to the easy and steady beat of medleys found on this one and only pirated cassette tape from the Philippines, I’ve managed to tolerate any pain requiring me to bend on my knees. This was the only way to get to the lowest cabinet to do my filing. Getting up proved challenging by not painful.
Our at-home workout helps to reduce the clicking of painful joints and snapping of stiff tendons and ligaments. We’ve been exercising this way for about half an hour each day. I will continue this workout to improve circulation and release the tension from my sore muscles. Actually, I don’t mind filing because it makes the day go by much faster than sitting hours on end in front of the computer as I’ve done with my previous employer.
Each time I bended my knees I kept thinking to myself that I’m praying, praying one day I would wake up that TPTB are playing victim, too. After mailing off my spare orgonite item to ‘Bluu’, I let a voicemail message to someone whom I’ve not heard in over a week. As I ended my message and upon turning right into the parking lot, I noticed this green truck waiting directly in the path where people would enter.
This green truck, which appears to be a Suburban, pulled out around 12:50PM as I parked on the far left hand side of the parking lot with the disabled parking and main lobby behind me. There was this green four-door Honda with an Asian female inside. She too pulled away from the disabled after I walked the path leading towards the water fountain and the main lobby to the right.
Anyway, I got a return phone call of someone with flu-like symptoms around 04:30PM. To me, this is yet another ploy to get me to feel sorry and another delay-tactic for justice. I know this would happen as others before me. Yup: There are others playing victim and to me they too will pay for making work hard on bended knees.
My knees should bend for my ‘God’ or at least for a ‘King’ and not the filing cabinet. Maybe I am paying homege to the fallen trees that gave their lives for becoming paper entombed in vertical columns of steel, which for this company is not locked or fire-safe.
If I were an auditor, I’d question this practice. The first ding was a live check sitting face down underneath the computer monitor of this empty and my temporary office where I was filing. I submitted this to the boss of my supervisor. I’m seeing too many no-no’s here. Maybe that is why government has too many red tape. They still rely on paper trails.
I’ve suggested scanning these papers for ease of retrieval but that is the system for this level of government. I’m sick of bending my knees to the illusions presented the ‘victim-like’ productions by people with no sense of ethics and morals. Maybe I should take the next step — a noisy one. There is the local news media and ‘them’.
But I digress. I hate working, period. I don’t like people, their opinions and most of all telephones. I’m a lazy girl — a home girl at best. I prefer staying at home where my heart is happy. I’d pray for the world on bended knees than hand clean the wooden floors anytime too. Being home means food, bathroom and the internet anytime I want.
Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.
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