sweet

Worked overtime yesterday and had a run of lovely names:

Rose Wood
Daisy Fields
and the wonderful Hope Bloom

Funny how the nice ones are always female. Male names are mostly boring, at best weird. But on the other hand they really have the best ways to snuff it.

Such as this one. Best.Cause.Of.Death.Ever.

Gored by bull.

He wasn't even a farmer. Or in Pamplona.

the friday shirt rules

The friday shirt is my most important item of work clothing. Well, apart from trousers that is, I'm not an exhibitionist.
Selection is an exacting process: the shirt must be busy, loud or striking. Preferably all three.
But, and here's the trick, it should not actually look like a dog's breakfast (or smell like one at the end of the day - so no polyester).
It should be a shirt that induces hilarity but not regurgitation.

oops!

Interesting day yesterday:

One of our long-term employees (i.e. someone who probably couldn't get a job in a sheltered workshop) mistakenly shredded several batches of unprocessed birth applications.. including cheques, money orders and actual money..

It's hilarious really. Well, it is for me since I don't have to deal with it - being a Death specialist.

As far as balls-ups go it ranks below the Debt Recovery team accidentally invalidating the driver's licenses of everyone beginning with 'P' (including the entire NSW police force), but alongside someone leaving the day's bank-bag containing cash, cheques, money orders and credit card details out on the counter and it being stolen..

Bureaucracy is so much fun when it goes tits up.

co-winkydink

Funny how things flow: the bunch of names I dealt with this morning included an Ede, a Gee, a Eeg and a Dee.

That's all. No story.

weirdos I have worked with

Sitting just over the divider from me (I dwell in cubicle hell..) is a strange little Jordanian woman.
She has little tantrums to herself on an almost hourly basis involving things like smacking the desk loudly whilst on the phone to a client, throwing piles of paper around the desk if she can't find something, thumping her keyboard and muttering to herself in Arabic (Jordanian?), or putting her face in her hands and groaning loudly.
It was a little disconcerting at first. I thought she was complaining to me or about me to someone else, but the more I get to know her I'm not sure if she even knows she's doing it.
It's kinda amusing and yet another example of how people around here are all slightly around the twist.

damn molluscs..

Fax from a funeral director the other day:

"We wish to purchase another copy of the Death Certificate for the late ****. His widow, Mrs ****, did not collect the cerificate from her mail box and the snails ate most of the certificate."

Hilarious.

lyric of the week

I wanted to walk through the empty streets
And feel something constant under my feet
But all the news reports recommended that I stay indoors
Because the air outside will make
Our cells divide at an alarming rate
Untill our shells simply cannot hold
All our insides in
And that's when we'll explode
...and it won't be a pretty sight.

We Will Become Silhouettes
- The Postal Service

hammer time

Today one of our customer service people got into an argument with someone on the phone and as her voice got louder & louder people started popping up over the dividers to see what was going on.

Looking across the office from my vantage point it reminded me very much of that game Whack-A-Mole.

An apt comparison, considering what we do most of the day is burrowing around in paperwork. Also: most of the people here are myopic troglodytes.

Ahh, my kingdom for a really huge mallet..

mondayitis

at last: my name in nudes!

Nudify Your Name!

(nod & wink to Avatar)