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I was recently informed by my significant friend after yucking it up about the old joke (from Romy & Michelle's High School Reunion--comic gold) that "I invented post-its!" that a nickname for Post-Its is F.L.Y.P.O.P. (Fucking Little Yellow Piece Of Paper). What does this have to do with my rant? Nothing, save the theme of Post-Its. I just thought you might like to know some trivia. As you may realize, sometimes we get so caught up in our little rants and pissiness (?), that we forget to enjoy the minutiae of, as the French say, la vie quotidienne. (If you haven't seen Romy & Michelle's High School Reunion and enjoy fierce irony, all things 80s, and a damn fine comedy, run, don't walk to put it on your Netflix queue.)
So here I am at my job. What is it that I do at my job? I don't have any fucking idea. It involves a lot of post-its, stacks and stacks of paper (who knew people still used paper?!), avoiding the zealotry of my co-worker across the cube alley from me, a healthy dose of Excel, a lot of mind-numbing data, and sometimes if I'm lucky, this crazy woman who works remotely from Idaho (yeah she is) riding me like a $2 circus pony sending me photocopy orders and general personal bitch requests via email (which, with some satisfaction I reply to, copying my boss, with a bullshit response about how I'm swamped, but basically amounting to: I'm not *your* bitch, so step the fuck off. I'm only the *local* office whipping boy/girl.) In general though, I am not the one to call on for all your photocopying needs. I have a college degree and in theory, I am using it, pounding stats into my keyboard, writing manuals for software I don't understand, and making technical, scaled drawings of things I'll never see.
So that's my job--as if you care. Even I don't care. I'm a professional clockwatcher. When I add up minutes of the day spent thinking: When can I go home? and compare them to minutes spent critically thinking about my work tasks, the ratio is an astounding 479:1 (give or take).
But sometimes, like all wage slaves, I have to work. And when I do, I need post-its and the people who work with me need post-its. Contrary to the inventor of the FLYPOP nomenclature, I find these post-its to be extremely helpful and that they can nicely dress-up a rather drab document with the multi-colored flags and scrawled handwriting. The problem of course comes when my co-workers do not effectively use post-its. And by effectively, I mean they don't know how to stick a fucking post-it note on a piece of paper without making me pause to ask God why he has shat on me yet again.
Just this morning I found a rather large stack of documents in my chair, each smartly labeled with a post-it stamped COPY or ORIGINAL and the date and the initials of our receptionist, who recently noted to me--beaming with pride--that she might be transferred to accounting if they can get someone to train her on payroll (wheee!).
Before I go on--can I just give a shout out to receptionists and office managers? Those crappy, thankless jobs got me through college. Yes, it is possible to be a smartypants (a la me, now spreading my talent via another dead-end, thankless, but much higher paying job) and work as a receptionist. It's true that it doesn't take an advanced thinker to operate the photocopier (though next time I go to the copy room, I am sure the copier will revolt on me in defiance), but just because you *don't* have to think hard to make a copy doesn't mean you're incapable of bloom's taxonomy, as it were. That said, some people will be receptionist type people forever. Maybe they *could" ponder life's imponderables, find a loophole in the laws of thermodynamics, or be working on their doctorate in ReallyComplexSubjectMatterology, but it is clear that they elect not to and take the path of least resistance, which occasionally coincides with the path of greatest irritance.
So back to this stack of documents in my chair, with the post-it labels. No, no good. We cannot attend to the documents yet.
I'd like to be a bit more...hmm, metaphysical for a moment and pose a question to you, o' Internet/universe:
How does one append a post-it to a document?
A: Simple: pull note, using upward almost jerking motion from pad. Move note to desired location on document, adhesive side down, and press.
Please note (note!) that at no time did I say that one should GLUE (with actual glue) the unattached end/side to the document. There's no glue involved. None at all. Post-its--thanks to the genius of the built in mild-adhesive, do not require accessories. The closest thing to a post-it kit involves many sizes, shapes, and colors of this wonder note. There's no glue. No glue.
And now to the realm of the physical:
Can someone please explain to me then WHY I have spent the better part of my morning removing post-its which will not be removed, only to find that the culprit is this inexplicably used additional adhesive????????? It is NOT necessary to kill an ant using a sledgehammer, folks. A tap with a shoe will do. Do not glue the post-it. There's no glue involved in post-its. And there should not be traces and bits of hot pink post-its on these documents which will be used as exhibits in a legal deposition next week.
Receptionist person: I understand that you're a human being that makes mistakes. I understand that you have a job that, when I had it, left me weeping almost daily and questioning the significance of my existance (my how times haven't changed!). But I just want you to know: You will NEVER make it to accounting if we cannot get past this little post-it note issue. You can look away, but I think we both know this has happened before.
I now return to my regularly scheduled clockwatching. Happy Friday, all.