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Ahhhh, Tuesday. So much better than Monday, so much closer to Friday, but sadly, so much closer to Wednesday.

Well. Monday was day five of the great activity log. There is nothing like logging your activity to make you hate your job. I know that isn’t supposed to be a side effect of logging your activity but it’s what I’m getting from it. My boss and supervisor are getting that I am busy every minute of everyday and I am the most productive person in the office. I am running around like a chicken with my head cut off, going from office to office place to place that everyone else is making personal calls, shopping online, making personal calls in order to shop, recounting weekend adventures and generally NOT WORKING.

All this while I am working, hard .

I am getting better at the logging. You would be surprised how long it can take a person to punch holes in a stack of paper. It can take, ten, fifteen minutes - if you do it properly. And the more you more things you have to “prepare to file” the more time you spend sitting at your desk. Right in front of you computer. The more properly you do your job, the more time you invest in making sure the holes are punched clean through, the more time you are sitting in front of your computer.

Not to make you think I am abusing my hole punching time, no, I am sitting there like a good little file clerk, punching holes as efficiently and quickly as I can. In a very business like way. I mean, I am fairly sure that it may be possible to order forms that are all ready hole punched - but I wouldn’t want to cast aspersions or accuse the powers that be of being cheap bastards. I’m just saying that my hole punch is lame and it is causing some minor paper tearing issues to crop up and paper tears are a time waste. I hate time waste. It’s so wasteful.

What else.

I watched a good DVD this weekend, Born Into Brothels. It’s about little Indian children growing up in nasty low end brothel in Calcutta It won an Oscar (tm) a couple of years ago. It sounds very depressing. It is, but at the same time, it’s really good and if you have a Netflix queue, I suggest you add it to it. The children are amazing. Depressing, but amazing. They are so normal and kidlike and they run around and do stuff just like kids you might know; But that the same time, they’ve seen everything and know everything and even when they’re happy they have sad eyes. The kids in the worst shape have very un-childlike thousand yard stares. They show a couple of the Mothers of these children and those women are harpies!. They say nasty things, they do nasty things and they are of course, whores. And the worst thing is that the children know their Mothers are whores. One knows his Mother is a whore ( who eventually is burned to death by her pimp) and his Father is a hash addict. And he knows.

The woman made the movie is a photojournalist. She came to India to “help”. She goes to this brothel and teaches the children to take pictures. Ultimately, she sells the photos the children take to raise money to get them out of the brothels and into boarding schools and hopefully onto a better life - and some of them do go off to school. It wouldn’t be a documentary if it had a happy ending