Jana and the Typewriter Disaster (Part 3)

Mail Day Interrupted

Back from lunch, in my mind, there was nothing to do except sort out Margot’s filing some more. For the next hour and a half I done next to nothing but this. Knowing that I had to begin upon mail earlier than 2:30 p.m. if I wanted to get it done on time, I began a touch earlier. Sifting through the outgoing mail I sorted it out into the large and small envelopes I would eventually use and began on what should have been an hour’s worth of work.

However, the dilemma began as Jana became the obstacle that prolonged my ability to get out the mail on time. It all began when Jana made her way over to my section, prying around in her own little world of ambition. Seeing her glancing at the typewriter in thought I asked “Are you going to use that are you”. Showing her usual stigma of sarcasm, she sat down upon the typewriter to which I turned on and remarked “Come and watch an expert.”

Playing along with her game to pause from my task, I thought her haughty remark had to with a hint of sarcasm be unfolded. Fiddling around with the typewriter, she didn’t look like she knew what she was doing, feeding through a blank piece of paper and asking me how to center the margin. Building up the curiosity as to the ‘Big Job’ she was doing for David, I sat there with cynical patience, ready to say “That’s great” and moving back onto my work.

When Jana finally found out how to center the page so that the text would write in the middle she readied me for what was deemed by her, an expert’s touch. I didn’t think of the reason Jana would have needed to center the text as she placed one of the pages she needed to write upon. Strangely, it already had writing and diagrams on it so I just sat there, preferring to be clueless until Jana showed me her spectacular form. Jana built up this blank anticipation in the air and it wasn’t until she said “Are you ready” and pressed one button on the typewriter that I realized the joke was on my waiting all that time.

Numbering Sixteen Pages

The reason Jana was using the typewriter for David’s urgent request was so that she could number the pages. Taking out the piece of paper after she printed the number ‘1’, I let out a little chuckle and watched her turn the double sided page around to type the next consecutive number. Soon after the second letter she typed to which she had sixteen pages and a mind that loses track easy, I went back to my outgoing mail duties.

The ordeal upon Jana’s using the typewriter wasn’t just straight in and straight out but a stream of bad luck that made both of us laugh with hysteria at the end of the day. Confusing herself, when she arrived to the ninth page I started chatting with her again and as she counted the pages, she realized she had missed a number in the line.

“Can you go get me white out please Tony” she pleaded, adding, “Thanks Tony, you’re a champ,” with a fluttering, playful banter in her eyes when seeing me diligently moan to her begging request. There was no shortage of gratitude from Jana through the day as there was no shortage of her clumsy and forgetful attempt at writing page numbers effectively.

Whiting out the number she had written, Jana asked if I could photocopy the pages also and after some confusion as to if she wanted them double or single sided, I brought her two single sided copies. Sending me back apologetically as she had confused herself again, she asked if I could create a double sided copy for her.

Photocopier Trips

Seemingly a hard task, I had to head up to the photocopier in the kitchen to which I spent five minutes there photocopying one side, waiting for the tray to mechanically open, inserting the photocopied page and hoping I would get it the right way around for the second page. After three attempts I finally figured out the right way to lay the page in the tray and when the ordeal was over, I headed to Jana, handing her the double sided paper which was thankfully received.

The comedy of mistakes didn’t end there however. As soon as Jana had the photocopy in her hands, she speedily placed it back in the typewriter as if to flaunt with sarcasm her professionalism. This haste turned out to be Jana’s downfall as she was too quick for her own mind, making the same numbering mistake twice. Again, I had to white out the page number she had just written, head off to the photocopier and spend five minutes there waiting for the tray to electronically retract. The humor started to mount as well as the yearning to just finish the job.

“I’m going to kill David for giving me this job” she noted as later she also added “I can’t wait to finish this job”. When Jana was setting up the typewriter her eagerness had the original paper get slightly jammed to which when hers were inserted, they would crumple and bend. This obviously stressed Jana and wishing not to continue her comedy of errors, after I headed back to make a couple of photocopies and white out a couple more pages, she had me sit close to her so I could reassure her that the next page would have the right number on it.

“What’s the next one” she kept asking me as I looked through the white-out and rectified the flaw. However, the comedy of errors didn’t end here and with Jana’s final mistake, the both of us sat there with red faces created from hysterically laughing. It came to the point that Blythe and Thalia came over to our area wanting to know what was so funny, looking on, unable to fully get our joke as they had to be there themselves.

Fingers Touching

Getting back now to a prior point of conversation, I bend back to the moment when Jana and I were trying to fish out the piece of paper stuck in the typewriter and crumpling her pages. Knowing that it is only a little point to know, I believe that because we were both aware of the event, I have to write of it. Whilst Jana was fishing for the jammed paper in the typewriter and amongst other junctures through our ordeal that day, I would dare say that with a hint of intimacy, our fingers and palms did touch.

Jana had me hold up a lever on top of the typewriter as she used a pencil to try and hook onto a piece of paper stuck inside and as I lowered my hand to help, my finger touched one side of the paper and hers obliviously touched the other. Slowly the two fingers, like magnets, glided together and touched for a few seconds.

I’m sure that Jana was as inattentive as I when our fingers first touched but once the warmth of our fingers had traveled to my mind’s senses, I could feel the vibe between us to which the charade was the typewriter and the focus, our two fingers connected. However, this feeling only engulfed me for a second to which I was now fully aware that Jana was a woman and I a man.

In that moment where realization came from our fingers touching, I’m positive that the strange silence that only in our minds hampered was united in feeling. From this point on I was more aware of Jana being a woman and me a man when we touched a couple of times more. It’s hard to describe how we carried on exactly the same when we touched but in our minds, there was a sudden silence alike of someone farting and you not knowing what to do (Forgive me for such a vile simile).

Final Page Disasters

Far from the labor of disconcerted lust, with Jana nearing a conclusion and on her final page she made two mistakes. Firstly, typing up the last page number with speed, she also tried pulling the paper out just as fast and as she uttered “Finished” you could hear the paper ripping with the strain from its being yanked out. Looking at me with playful tears I walked over and took the original without her even having to ask me like most other occasions.

Heading out to photocopy her page and liquid paper it, she thanked me intensely for my efforts boasting “After this I’m going to get you your own office with a view of the harbor”. However, there was more praise to be offered as Jana almost created the same mistake twice but this time, yanking out the paper amidst her typing the letters.

Even as Jana was taking out the page in haste she shouted “Oh no”, bringing herself to a prankish cry. Jana had managed to space the three letters on the page by as much as two centimeters, each being lower on the page than the other. This was the last time I photocopied something for Jana and as her whole ordeal lasted an hour, this was the length of time I was held from my mail duties. I tried as best I could to keep folding up the mail but with Jana making a mistake every second minute, I had to rush off and do her photocopying.

During my prolonged mail Jana headed over to the outskirts of my section and glancing at me through the filing cases she ushered me with a nudge of her head to follow her. “What have you got for me” I asked in sarcasm, “More work.” With Jana a few steps ahead of me, we headed to her desk where she felt the need to repay me for all the hassle she put me through. Although I didn’t receive any stress from her continually sending me out to the photocopier, she gave me two ‘Zones’ mints as a reward for my troubles and making her feel gratified, I headed back for the mail.

Memoirs of a Mad Chaos

Speaking on a touch more topics of the day, I have but two unencumbered thoughts to delivereth thee. Firstly, now that I have opened myself up with the knowledge of my memoirs, everyone at one point or other seems to use my memoirs as a focal point. People seem strangely interested in the idea of my creating my memoirs and to a minute point, are tethered by curiosity when wondering what I write in these pages. People do not change their ways when hearing of my memoirs but they seem intrigued by the idea and therefore keep it as a reference in the back of their minds.

I wouldn’t be surprised if someone like David would see me first thing in the morning and ask himself “I wonder what he’s going to write about me today”. This subject I bring up because in the midst of our mayhem and laughter Jana asked “Are you going to put this in your memoirs”. The word memoirs itself sounds so resonant when spoken and much more sophisticated than the word “diary”. I believe people wouldn’t have shown much interest if I labeled these pages as my diary. Eons ago I raised that same question and to its answer, searched within myself to create a new word much stronger than memoirs to cal these pages.

However, memoirs has seemed to stick favorably and although I think they are too demure for these pages, they must now bind as they do stick. To the title of these pages, I have already created my opinion of a subtitle within this month being ‘A Daily Triumph’ but I’m stuck on whether to hold the title ‘Diary of a Mad Chaos’ or have it changed to ‘Memoirs of a Mad Chaos’. Anyway, I told Jana that I would make a sizeable mention about our little episode on Friday afternoon and that I did.

Thalia Dreads the Camp

A couple more things, Thalia came and had a chat to me at the end of the day to keep me from boredom. Explaining how she was headed for the HIH camp where you get to meet the founder of the company, she wasn’t too happy about leaving on Monday and coming back home late on Saturday afternoon. “That’s my whole weekend gone” she argued as Esme urged her on in revolt. Explaining that Thalia should ask if she would be getting paid for Saturday I didn’t really see it to be too much of a hassle as she would probably have a great time anyway.

Nevertheless, if I was in her shoes I would probably be anxious about heading down as well as bent on kicking up a spew about my also missing a weekend. Thalia mentioned that she was heading to Gems on Saturday night to which she would try and savor as much as she could. Hearing how Gems has now improved, I keep hearing of all these clubs I have to visit but never get the opportunity because of my sickly acquaintances deterred from big cities.

Anneliese the Character

Being one other brisk touch upon my workday that I have to mention, this is more a singling out of a personality rather than of work as a whole. I don’t shed much words on Anneliese or many other characteristic words of anyone else at work but here’s my chance to create a simple image of who Anneliese is. Simply put, Anneliese is the only person I know that would wholeheartedly bless herself after sneezing.

She’s that zany type of lady in their late 20’s who acts like a little kid, refers to Bart Simpson a lot and playacts many of her actions throughout the day. In addition, when I was speaking to her today, even our most candid conversation wasn’t without her making it sound like she was putting it on or boasting.

Not to demean Anneliese in any way, she is a great character as she spoke of her going on a fifteen day holiday to Hawaii with her husband for their proper honeymoon. “I can’t wait to go there” she kept repeating as we were inside a taxi together, figuring she was looking forward to the sex portion as much as the exploration which is basically the same pool of thought whichever way you look at it.

Closing Up the Night

Wishing to have another earlier night tonight and getting now used to sleeping at around 11:00 p.m., I have ten minutes to shed some words, turn this computer off and relax in my waterbed. There are a couple more paragraphs to shed regarding my heading home on Friday and my Friday night but figuring that it will only take up half of my night tomorrow, I can probably conclude the all of my Saturday which I don’t know already.

Knowing that Saturday has already been half spoken of, both days should equal out to the same volume of pages here and with that, I won’t be behind on my memoirs again. I can’t wait for damned Sunday to be told as I’ve only written two or three notes upon it, hoping that I will remember all that is in memory. Anyway, it’s time for me to head off, write some notes from my little notepad and be gone until next we meet tomorrow night.