Thursday, August 06, 2009
This is my home viewed from the road down by the mail box that can be seen in the header.
This is a satellite image of my home from Google maps. A very different perspective.
Sometimes I get really tired of my job. It is not hard, but sometimes things at work wear on my nerves, but, mostly it is just very boring and tiresome, at least to me. Once in a while, we get some new project that I have to work on. Most everyone else hates when that happens and we have to change the way we do things, but I enjoy trying to figure out what I feel is the best way to go about my part of the new project. That is as long as it is not data entry (as in spending hours and hours entering numbers in a computer). I do try to remember what it was like to actually work out on the production line. There are worse things than boring when it comes to work like wondering how you are going to make it through another day. Some of the jobs on the line sent you home at night aching all over. I know that having an easy job where I am employed is an anomaly.
One thing I have always found very tiresome at work is shredding old paperwork. It seems the most boring and useless task I can thing of. I have my own special way of shredding paperwork that is not nearly so tiresome, but I can't tell you because it is a secret. Today, someone was in our office shredding paperwork. I was talking to her and said how I thought shredding was one of the worst jobs we had. She did not agree. She was grateful just to have a job where she could leave and go to the restroom whenever she needed too without asking for permission to leave. I did not ask her if she gets to eat her lunch before her lunch hour and then go out to her truck during her one hour lunch period and take a nap. I did not ask her if she had ever decided to go to Berryville at one hour before her lunch time started and then ran out of gas, got a ride to the station to get gas, being gone from work over two hours and never even missed. I am thinking those things do not occur at her duty station if she was grateful just for the privilege of going to the restroom without asking permission. Her perspective was from the ground floor and mine is from far, far above.