Man, I hate this job sometimes

Man, I hate this job.

It’s not the duties that get to me, it’s the repetition. Day in, day out – everything is the same. I don’t even know who in their right mind would imagine a job like this. I guess it has to be done though. I walk toward my destination slowly. Damn…why do they make the halls so dark? I know – mood lighting, but seriously! A guy could break his neck if he wasn’t careful! Ah – a bright spot in my otherwise dreary day…a co-worker – my receptionist. She’s a cute little thing – a nice thin blonde with a nice smile. Exactly the thing you need to liven up the atmosphere.

I mentioned how much I hate this job, right? I think I did. I forget sometimes. I’m just running on automatic now; well, on the desk job anyway. In the field…that’s me in my element. I love the freedom that comes with the fun. Weaving in and out of traffic, floating around for new recruitment. Sometimes the new recruits are reluctant, but with the right amount of prodding, they come along just fine. I’m fine with doing that – if I could, I would do it all day! Unfortunately, there’s only a set number of newbies we can process each day. Kinda stupid, eh? I think so as well…but I’m not in charge. People think I’m in charge, but I’m not. I still have a higher-up I have to report to.

The blonde at the desk gives me a stack of files. Great. Filing the processed newbies. Filing their paperwork is the most boring part of my job. Yeah, I hate my entire job…but it’s the part inside that grates at me the most. Finally, I reach my room. I look back at the receptionist, still smiling at everything and nothing at the same time. How she can be so cheery in a place like this is beyond me. I open the door and the gust of wind that follows sends chills through my bones. Apparently someone left the air-conditioning on again last night…actually, I haven’t been in the office since last month. I swore I turned it off…the cleaner must’ve done it. If it wasn’t cold enough in this place already.

I close the door behind me and look at my office. It’s not lavish or anything…just barely serviceable for me. A desk, a Windows based PC, an Apple iMac and a stack of thirteen filing cabinets. Of course, these cabinets hold the files of our newest employees from the past year. The cabinets are mostly empty now – but they won’t be in a year’s time. Lots of new employees are coming in to us from their old lives. Of course, they won’t take my job away from me – I’m the best at what I do and I have a few more decades left in me. Damn…it’s still dark in my office. The lights stopped working a long while ago – haven’t had the time to replace them yet. Maybe some of the new guys can help me with that. Certainly a lot of them this time around.

I walk toward the first filing cabinet and open the first file. Jake Hamilton, recruited two days ago. Slide that in and get the next file ready. Holy crud – a lot of these new guys don’t have names! I should’ve asked first, but I had to get them ready for the next part. I read over the files and shudder slightly. I’ve been doing this job for a while and I’ve seen lots of creepy things – my receptionist for example – but I’ve never been more creeped out by this. The guy in the file was committed for repeatedly trying to hack his hands off…and he scooped an eye out of his skull. Man, I hope the boss knows what he’s doing – hiring someone like this. I don’t think this guy’ll be doing much in the way of work. He doesn’t sound too bright.

Finally, the paperwork is done and it’s time for the final part of my desk job. I walk to the back of my office and turn the hidden doorknob there. No, I won’t tell you where the doorknob is. I open the door and bask in the sounds and sights before me.

Glass boxes. Lots and lots of boxes. Each box holds one shining light. If I still had eyeballs, I’d be blinded. If I still had eardrums, I’d go deaf. As it is, I can still “hear” the sounds – they’re processed and directly sent into my brain. Yes, I still have a brain – and it’s still my original brain as well. I walk to an empty box and lift up the lid carefully. Even if the box broke, they wouldn’t know what to do. I reach into my cloak and pull out a spherical container – holding a light. Not any old light, mind you – the light of the last new recruit. Ah, this guy really had it rough. He was in solitary confinement and the jail he was in was destroyed. Poor sap went insane and started hearing some knock. Babbling about it as well to an invisible listener. His light is the brightest one I’ve ever gotten. He was so relieved when I told him of his new position and thanked me when I took him away. I hate this job – true – but there are sometimes people like him that make it worthwhile sometimes. I place the light in the box and replace the lid.

I crane my neck up as I look at the amount of boxes around me. Each box contains a light. Each light is a human soul – ready for use. That reminds me, the lights in the hallway are dim. I’ll have to replace them. I mean, I’m a skeleton – but if these bones break then I’m out of action for a while. I close the door behind me and walk towards my desk. Now that I’ve filed away all that I need to file away, I can go back to the field again. I reach under my desk and pull out a sheaf of papers – the locations for the next recruitment drive. I groan as I read the last location – Dallas, Texas. I curse George Bush yet again as I walk out the door – switching off the air conditioning.

My receptionist grins and nods at me again, the action threatening to send her head toppling off her shoulders…again. I shake my head and pull up my hood, holding out my hand for my “pen”. My “pen” is actually my weapon of choice – and God help me, I don’t mean anything with that! It’s my trademark scythe. I’ve had it for as long as I remember and it’s helped my image a lot! People actually know who I am now. Well…they eventually did before, but now they just know instantly. The fame doesn’t help with the grimness of what I do. I draw in a breath – well, I don’t have lungs, so I can’t, but I breathe anyway. I don’t have eyeballs, but I can roll my eyes. I don’t have a tongue but I can…well, ok – I don’t speak a whole lot these days. I hate my job, but it needs to be done.

Damn it, though! The Grim Reaper needs a break!