office job
Oct. 17th, 2019 11:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7I can't make myself CARE about this.
it's a lot of fiddly little stuff I can't focus enough to work on and also none of it is in any way important or interesting or enticing.
oh man. I'm so fucking bored here. This is bad.
I'm also really grouchy because I begged my coworker to please stop throwing away the printed-on-half-of-half-of-one-side sheets of paper he uses for every note and every transaction. We have a little inbox tray thing I collect them in, and I draw a line through the used portion and then print on the backs when I need to print a list or a transaction report or whatever, and then when it's full I take it home to burn in the woodstove. There's literally no reason not to reuse the sheets of paper and it takes basically the same amount of effort of going out and buying more reams of paper and reloading the printer drawer, it just means you have to pay attention to whether you're printing out something that needs clean paper or if you can print it on reused paper. But if you factor in driving to fucking OfficeMax, it's not really any extra effort. When I'm there, I can cut our paper use by like, a ream a week. It's a distressing amount. (I get that I'm nutty about it and will squeeze four transaction reports on a sheet by using front/back top/bottom, but why the fuck not? They're internal only and it's obvious what's what by the direction of the printing!)
But he won't, and the first thing I did when I got in this morning was to pick out all the printed-two-lines-on-one-side blank sheets of paper out of the garbage full of empty coffee cups and food waste and so on.
(I got about thirty sheets of reusable paper that way, and that was without digging down to the bottom.)
So at this point it feels like a deliberate fuck you, like the anti-vegetarians who are like "I'll eat two animals for every one you don't", like, it's just being done to upset me. I can't see how it benefits him. It's not even laziness, it feels like malice.
Oh well, he's not in today, so like, whatever, but I had to get that off my chest.
Yes, this is the kind of thing where I think, hmm, maybe that ADHD has shades of OCD in it, but listen as long as I can still function, and I'm not asking him to do anything weird, there were paper recycling bins in my elementary school classrooms, it's not even like this is unusual or eccentric. It's like. Basic trash separation.
I fear to ask whether he recycles at home. Like, I get that it doesn't matter, but do you just never think of it?? I mean what's it like to live like that???
I asked the same of my BFF in a text message yesterday. The kitchen, when I got home, had clearly been hastily and recently tidied, but the stove top was covered in the coffee grounds from his daily moka pot for the entire three weeks, and the kitchen counter had clearly not been wiped off one time during my entire absence and was growing things, and there was an active composting experiment going on in the sink strainer baskets. "What is it like," I wondered to her, "to have been raised as a man in this society, and just not... either see or care one bit about such things?"
it's a lot of fiddly little stuff I can't focus enough to work on and also none of it is in any way important or interesting or enticing.
oh man. I'm so fucking bored here. This is bad.
I'm also really grouchy because I begged my coworker to please stop throwing away the printed-on-half-of-half-of-one-side sheets of paper he uses for every note and every transaction. We have a little inbox tray thing I collect them in, and I draw a line through the used portion and then print on the backs when I need to print a list or a transaction report or whatever, and then when it's full I take it home to burn in the woodstove. There's literally no reason not to reuse the sheets of paper and it takes basically the same amount of effort of going out and buying more reams of paper and reloading the printer drawer, it just means you have to pay attention to whether you're printing out something that needs clean paper or if you can print it on reused paper. But if you factor in driving to fucking OfficeMax, it's not really any extra effort. When I'm there, I can cut our paper use by like, a ream a week. It's a distressing amount. (I get that I'm nutty about it and will squeeze four transaction reports on a sheet by using front/back top/bottom, but why the fuck not? They're internal only and it's obvious what's what by the direction of the printing!)
But he won't, and the first thing I did when I got in this morning was to pick out all the printed-two-lines-on-one-side blank sheets of paper out of the garbage full of empty coffee cups and food waste and so on.
(I got about thirty sheets of reusable paper that way, and that was without digging down to the bottom.)
So at this point it feels like a deliberate fuck you, like the anti-vegetarians who are like "I'll eat two animals for every one you don't", like, it's just being done to upset me. I can't see how it benefits him. It's not even laziness, it feels like malice.
Oh well, he's not in today, so like, whatever, but I had to get that off my chest.
Yes, this is the kind of thing where I think, hmm, maybe that ADHD has shades of OCD in it, but listen as long as I can still function, and I'm not asking him to do anything weird, there were paper recycling bins in my elementary school classrooms, it's not even like this is unusual or eccentric. It's like. Basic trash separation.
I fear to ask whether he recycles at home. Like, I get that it doesn't matter, but do you just never think of it?? I mean what's it like to live like that???
I asked the same of my BFF in a text message yesterday. The kitchen, when I got home, had clearly been hastily and recently tidied, but the stove top was covered in the coffee grounds from his daily moka pot for the entire three weeks, and the kitchen counter had clearly not been wiped off one time during my entire absence and was growing things, and there was an active composting experiment going on in the sink strainer baskets. "What is it like," I wondered to her, "to have been raised as a man in this society, and just not... either see or care one bit about such things?"
