Archival injuries and political cowardice
Dude, I got so many little cuts and scratches at work today! The unexpected perils of being an archivist! (Or, more precisely, an archivist's minion.) Mostly a bunch of small papercuts and boxcuts. There is one on my wrist that looks like something (perhaps a small, rabid raccoon) bit me, but was actually acquired from the sharp corner of an awkward metal box that was stupidly put on a top shelf. (I am all up to date on tetanus shots and such, so I should be okay!) I did a bunch of shifting today, but it's complicated because we don't have a lot of blank room, so I have to shift things around to make room for the boxes I'm working on (which are being moved as I go), but I'll end up having to move all the stuff I just moved again later. It's like those puzzles where it's a bunch of tiles in a plastic frame and you have to move the tiles around just so in order to make the picture whole. I always hated those puzzles.
In between shiftings, I did some depressing maths. I had done a tally of how many boxes I had left to go through on my Folder Divider Labeling Project of Doom last week when I finished a small section. I don't know why I did the tally because it's always depressing when I chug along and realize how much more there is still to be done (as of last week, 500 boxes). But yesterday I came to the sad realization that I am running low on the folder dividers and need to order more soon. Which meant I had to calculate how many folders I have left to go. I put it off 'til today, but it had to be done. And thus, I have 5,015 folders left to label by hand. *headdesk* When I informed my boss that I would be needing 335 more 15-packs of these folders, her first response was, "oh, honey, I'm sorry." Which, yes. I think I will be doing these folders until doomsday. Or until I graduate and find a real job (with my own minions to do tedious labeling!). Whichever comes first.
So, it's Inauguration weekend here in D.C. Approximately a million billion people are descending on the city. I am fleeing. I feel this is a sensible decision. Yes, it's exciting and awesome and historical, but I just have no desire to be smushed into the Mall with no room to breathe or move or pee (seriously, they are apparently telling people to bring plastic bottles-which, ew). It's not like I'd be able to see anything anyway. So, although Gunder (the assistant curator at work) is going and says that her friends elsewhere in the U.S. and abroad would disown her if she didn't, I am going to Philadelphia tomorrow and New York on Sunday and I'm not coming back here 'til Wednesday. Because I would rather be disowned by my friends than face the madness. (But, please don't disown me? I am small and meep and do not do well in crowds.)
In between shiftings, I did some depressing maths. I had done a tally of how many boxes I had left to go through on my Folder Divider Labeling Project of Doom last week when I finished a small section. I don't know why I did the tally because it's always depressing when I chug along and realize how much more there is still to be done (as of last week, 500 boxes). But yesterday I came to the sad realization that I am running low on the folder dividers and need to order more soon. Which meant I had to calculate how many folders I have left to go. I put it off 'til today, but it had to be done. And thus, I have 5,015 folders left to label by hand. *headdesk* When I informed my boss that I would be needing 335 more 15-packs of these folders, her first response was, "oh, honey, I'm sorry." Which, yes. I think I will be doing these folders until doomsday. Or until I graduate and find a real job (with my own minions to do tedious labeling!). Whichever comes first.
So, it's Inauguration weekend here in D.C. Approximately a million billion people are descending on the city. I am fleeing. I feel this is a sensible decision. Yes, it's exciting and awesome and historical, but I just have no desire to be smushed into the Mall with no room to breathe or move or pee (seriously, they are apparently telling people to bring plastic bottles-which, ew). It's not like I'd be able to see anything anyway. So, although Gunder (the assistant curator at work) is going and says that her friends elsewhere in the U.S. and abroad would disown her if she didn't, I am going to Philadelphia tomorrow and New York on Sunday and I'm not coming back here 'til Wednesday. Because I would rather be disowned by my friends than face the madness. (But, please don't disown me? I am small and meep and do not do well in crowds.)