The Backpack

I am really trying to enjoy my new job, to be grateful that there is a job that is classified as "Mother's Hours", to be thankful that my boss is really a nice guy, and to be joyful in all things concerning work - even if it is a complaint, I want it to be in jest. My last job was so toxic and just plain hard that sometimes I think the only skill I took away from it was "what not to do".



Did I already blog about the backpack? I am not sure how I missed that. Last week G Money brought in a load of about 1500 pages of paper that were turned all directions and ways, some folded some not, some next to their mate some not, some in envelopes that had been open and some not, and all shoved into a backpack. A large backpack spilling over with paperwork, tax forms, passports (his families - he didn't even know then were in there), bank receipts, junk mail, just tons of stuff, some important some not.

So, that day at work I sorted the papers and got them all in the same direction, and in piles of taxes, bank, payroll, personal (there was a lot of G Money's stuff in there - like his colonoscopy report??) and other assorted piles of importance. Then I began to set up a filing system. By the end of the day everything was nice and neat and pretty. Then G asked me for a Federal Tax form. So I open the new file and it isn't there. It takes me about three minutes and I find it. The majority of the Federal forms he gave me were mailed from Utah, and on that particular form I looked at the return address and assumed it was the State of Utah form. I handed him the right form and double checked the Utah file to make sure I didn't mix anymore. Then G says:

G "You have to be very careful with this stuff, we cannot haphazardly move them into any file"

Me "As opposed to being in a backpack?"

Crickets.

So today I have to work, and already I am not really looking forward to it. Joyful Joyful Joyful, Darn it , I will be!!!