Having a dull job that also causes you to sleep less than the recommended amount of hours can take its toll on you. And since corporate culture frowns upon bringing PS3’s to work, there’s only so much you can do before your mind starts “entertaining” itself.
Working with huge lists of names and accounts all day, you’re bound to stumble upon what I call “repeat offenders”. The accounts that never match. The insurances that never get through the system. The checks that bounce like Tigger on ecstacy. Nothing ever works right with such accounts, and like many other things in this world, it follows the 80:20 rule; 80% of your work comes from dealing with these 20% of people.
After a little while, you take it personally.
Mental conversations arise when you run into one of these offenders, and can go something like this:
“Ah, Mrs. Boyd, we meet again. What’s this? Another payment charge? Indeed, do you want to do this the easy way, or the hard way? <click. click> They always choose the hard way.”
<Insert menacing knuckle crack. type type>
“Oh, acting tought now, aren’t we Mrs. Boyd? Let’s see you handle this! <click type type click> Well aren’t we a fighter, but I have more up my sleeve~”
<click click type click type type type>
Nothing is working. At this point a maniacal grin seems to grow on my face, my mouse is cracking under the pressure, and I’m smashing my keyboard with blinding speed (APM 400!). I’m yelling threats now,
mostly in my head, that is.
“You can’t hold out forever Mrs. Boyd! None shall pass through to the land of clean credit without my approval! You! Will! Balance!”
It’s become an epic battle of good vs. evil, light vs. dark, red vs. blue (anime fighting backgrounds are always strikingly similar). I hardly notice my coworkers scooting away as their eyes shift between each other in a mixture of concern and fear. I’m too preoccupied with throwing every weapon in my arsenal at Mrs. Boyd, who so far has exhibited remarkal willpower and refused to budge. An ominous growl escapes my throat and my face shines with perspiration as this battle of wits begins to reach the turning point. It’s all come down to the big guns now, and every motion taken is calculated down to the tee.
The final click. The perfect keystroke. Success! Take that, Mrs. Boyd! Your wiley ways and crooked numbers were no match for my brilliance!
Brilliance, I say, brilliance! Mwhahahahahaha!
With the battle over I lean back in my chair and sigh with exhaustion. Fighting for the good of mankind sure is tiring. I don’t think I can handle one of those again. Hopefully the rest of my list is more willing to submit to the general rules of finance.
Ah, Mr. Mason, we meet again…