I’m typing this blog entry with eyes shut, listening to Ben read my words aloud from a scribbled sheet of paper.
I’m certain I’ll make mistakes along the way, but I’m also certain that I’ll be pleasantly surprised by how much I get right.
Therein lies the lesson of trying.
I’ve been thinking about my job a lot lately — mainly devising ways on how to better connect with it. But grunt work is not gratifying.
I organize and sort Excel spreadsheets filled with gobbledygook. I am required to attend meetings that lack agendas and objectives. I try to no avail to keep my Inbox free of extraneous e-mails sent by fellow employees who also find them extraneous. I defend my edits of poorly penned messages to haughty authors who begrudge my cautious recommendations.
As disconnected as I am at work, I am valued for the same reasons that make me hate the place.
So I want to give a shout out to my fellow grunts, the friends and strangers who toil over inefficiencies that somehow somewhere amount to someone else’s glory.
