Copy, Paste, Im my friend, Copy, Paste, Im my friend, etc....

Yes, i think my boss is slightly concerned about my lack of work. Or lack of work at my disposal. You see when ever he comes behind my desk to pick up something he printed from his computer, the printer is, conveniently for him, behind my desk and he notices my personal google searches or or me im-ing my friend, M.... He has recently attempted to rectify this problem. He has found work for me to do. We sit in a long meeting concerning how I would update the company brochure importing text from a power point presentation and our company website. He gives me meticulous notes written on the pages of the print out, some on yellow post-its. Insert this paragraph A here, delete page 7 and 8, integrate text from website, etc. A nice, neat, and precise package. It seems fool proof.

I try to nod and scribble notes on my copy of documents along side. I try to suppress my yawn. I try not to put my head down on my desk or close my eyes. I try to make reassuring noise....hmmm, yes, ok like this, at the right moments. He seems pleased, thanks me and the meeting is over. It seems as if everything should move along quickly now. I nod.

We believe by July it should be settled. It's all a matter of copy, paste and maintaining formatting. Problem is, I don't know quark and when i paste parts of the text it disappears off the page and my formatting tool bars are unresponsive to my needs and the Quark books is much too big and boring to learn in so short a segment of time for a one small project.

Uh, excuse me Mr. Supervisor, we have run into a problem.

A Small Doodle Really

I have only been at my job for a month when i think I have already made a little error, which I am sure they will believe is a lot bigger then just little, but as it is their company, they of course have the final judgement call, so I suppose we can just call the error a big error. I was putting together a boardroom booklet with minutes and it was the first time i saw such ridiculously mindless documents. Which all began to look the same but which never the less had to be placed in a precise order. This seemed fine and all except I do not what basis they use to decide the sequence of the order. So when my manager with very limited time sat down with me and shuffled the pages until he found this order which he understood but did not share the logic of with I. I thought it was very clever of me to number said pages with a #2 yellow pencil as these documents were still being worked on and the fear was that they could unintentionally become disordered again. Mind you I had an eraser handy at my desk I planned to use on them before sending them out.

It was quite a shock to me when I was binding these documents and noticed my little number marks on the ends of these very official but terribly boring documents like a child's disobedient scribble on a perfectly pristine wall. Increasing my misfortune was the fact that though they were written in such a light pencil marks as to be barley noticeable, they were were now made much darker by our evil and terribly disloyal copier machine. Of course this was only noticed by myself when I was putting together the last book and my manger was waiting with an outstretched hand to gather the booklets to make his London flight.

I don't touch my pencils at my desk they stare at me guiltily.