2001-07-04 - 12:21 a.m.

I think Robert Palmer said it best when he said, or sang, rather, "She's so fine, there's not telling where the money went."

Okay, so that actually has no bearing on my entry today whatsoever. There is no "she" to talk about, I just have "Simply Irresistible" stuck in my head from the bus ride home, mainly stuck on that line.

Anyway, what to say, what to say... Well, frankly I have one *major* complaint about my job.

.

.

.

.

.

It's not going to give me a whole lot to write about.

That's right, rather than my job at the movie theater that had me bitching about cleaning up other people's soda-soaked popcorn and standing on my feet for 10 hours straight, or my job at Ames that had me complaining about how my boss was evil and manipulative and the customers were terrible, I have very little to say about my new job.

This is how my day goes from the point that I turn my bike toward the Fox Ridge Office Park where the building where I work is located to the point that I leave to bike back to the bus station and load it in the luggage bays underneath:

I step from the sweltering, evil, nasty heat of doom into the kind, loving air conditioning of the plush environment of the Item Processing department. I sit in a very soft chair that has not one, not two, not three, but *four* levers to change the position so you can get the maximum comfort for all of your sitting needs. I pull up to the computer, resting my feet on the nice, convenient footrests under each desk and look forward at the computer screen with its magnification/radiation blocking screen with large white letters on black background, perfect for being as easy on the eyes as possible.

At the sound of shuffling checks rushing their way through the check sorters in the background, I click the first of four jobs we have to do. Three enlarged pictures of checks appear on my screen. I type in how much they are for. Lather, rinse, repeat, until someone has typed in the values of every check they possible can. Then we go through, putting them all into the system, fixing any mistakes that the scanners have made, and check to make sure everything works out right and no one made any mistakes putting in the values. And so that's basically how it goes from 1 PM to 9:30 PM when I finally leave to go catch the bus.

It's simple, it's comfortable, and it's mainly typing. Typing and sorting. I mean, there's more to it than that, but I wouldn't want to bore you with it. Basically just know this. The only thing more plush than the chairs is the job I'm going while sitting in them.

And the best part about it?

I'm getting paid more at this job than I have any other job ever.

God bless America.