And I Was Worried I Wouldn't Have Anything To Write Today

Whenever something has to be done around here because someone is sick or on vacation or it's just something that has to happen occasionally, I'm the one who does it. Usually without being asked.

Why?

Because I'm a sucker who, deep inside, still thinks that being responsible and working hard and doing well is more important than trying to shove my head up the boss's ass. I know I'm wrong. I know that the world doesn't really work that way, but there's this strange kernel of hope inside me because I don't like the smell of my boss's ass.

Anyway...

Today is the day of the week that our office gets to open up half of the 4th floor conference room so the overflow of attorneys and others won't just be hanging around in the lobby or right outside the front door. Although, early on, I didn't know this, nor did I care.

SUSM, the current supervisor, walked up to me and said, "Do you want to get the key for the room."

"Not today," I said.

She looked at me. She blinked. She turned to BBNG and told him to go get the key and open up the room.

About that time, I learned that the woman who usually gets the mail ready and takes it down to the mail room was out sick for the day. I put this bit of information out of my mind quickly, though, because it had no immediate impact on my day, but I should have remembered.

When I got back from lunch and had just unlocked my computer, SUSM called across the room, "I WANT YOU TO DO THE MAIL TODAY!"

"Okay," I said and rolled my eyes away from her.

Two-forty-five happened upon me and I had to rush to get the boxes ready to be shipped because the DHL (the stupid wankers) has to be called before three or they won't come and pick up the packages. I really hate using this company.

So I stayed back there to do the mail. I separated the envelopes into several piles: 1. already stamped, but need to be sealed 2. sealed, but no stamp 3. not sealed, not stamped, and over an ounce 4. not sealed, not stamped, and under an ounce. After I ran those through the machine, which jammed four or five times on me, I remembered all the mail that the secretaries are too lazy to stick in envelopes that I get to do. And I did them.

Here's the biggest problem with doing the mail, for me at least, the damn table back there is right at ball level and when I have to reach for empty envelopes or address labels or a pen, I squish my nut sack and feel this pain that radiates from my nethers and swoops around to my lower back. Standing on tip-toes helps, but if my ankles get tired because I have to spend a while searching for the right address, my feet settle and my testes get mashed in a whole new way.

Yes, I mashed my balls several times while getting the mail ready. I doubt there's any bruising, but it's still annoying.