I was on the big automated check in machine at my library. It was towards the end of a long, rough day working at the library. The 475th bin filled up and I had to empty it. I cursed the machine. Not elegant, literary cursing, but guttural vile curses combined with futile kicks of its metal sides. It wasn't even terribly busy at the library and I could barely keep up with the stupid machine!
For the day I had worked with a genial enough crew, mostly inclined to quietly keep to themselves, but everyone of them was plagued with a tendency to never do a single thing more than they needed to and never to think of who might come after them. They had no hesitancy in passing off jobs to the next person. And because there were four of them, in the end, I was always and ultimately the next person. On the machine this meant that while I was working on it 20% of the total time of the day, I ended up doing 80% of the work on it.
I mean, unless you count the amount of work the machine did, which was prodigious.
I think I was swearing at the one who least deserved it.
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