“Can you stuff these envelopes, Pat?”
She dumps a stack of forms on my desk, and alongside it some lifelessly-brown envelopes, and the two administrative barricades hide my view of the miserable world.
There’s a part of me that hates this. The monotony. The repetition. The complete lack of awareness my managers have that I have serious potential and I am wasting away doing this.
I once read a report of a man who survived Auschwitz by volunteering to fill the ovens with the bodies of the dead. He detailed putting the children’s bodies at the bottom of the stack, the ones that will burn quickly, then the women and the men. It was a harrowing read.
It feels, for a moment, like I am that guy, doing the same thing over and over til you don’t feel anything any more.
I’ve had a look for it online as I have no idea where I’d read it originally, but there’s something resembling this story here.
Learning the minute details of the absolute horror and depravity of the death camps instantly reminds me that my situation isn’t that bad. I still have freedom, and choice, and a wage. I’m a dick for even comparing my situation to this.
There is a lot to be said, however, for not being negative. Yes, it’s tedious. Yes, it’s annoying. But when I get out of the office, I can forget all that and move forward with the rest of my life- that I can battle depression by forcing myself to enjoy myself. By getting out and doing something, and by not thinking of war atrocities whether during office hours or not. At least it’s simple and not giving me brain-ache.