Blogging limbo

I know there's been a paucity of substantive posts here in the last few weeks.  Going back to full-time work when you're not used to it any more really erodes one's time and energy.

I didn't exactly luck out in the choice of a temp job.  The person who was training me to replace her there while she's out was abrasive, adversarial, and flat-out abusive (aside from being totally incompetent at explaining things).  I've only encountered someone like her once before, long ago, and I quit that job on the second day.  She's finally gone, thank goodness for small favors.  The office is usually cold and noisy.  There is constant yelling and raucous, braying laughter.  People do not so much talk normally as sort of bark at each other, and one regularly hears two people trying to talk over each other and each of them getting louder and louder trying to out-overtalk the other.  It's not even hostile, this is just their normal pattern of interaction.  My aspirin consumption is through the roof from the near-daily tension headaches caused by overhearing all this.  I seem to be allergic to something in the office -- most days there I get watery eyes and a runny nose, which then clears up in a few minutes after I've left for the day.

The person who is finishing up the training is not actually nasty but is abrupt and unappreciative and clearly thinks I'm an idiot (yes, I make mistakes because so many things weren't explained properly).  The office processes seem twenty-plus years out of date.  The accounting software is the most cumbersome and frustrating to use I've ever encountered.  All documents are on paper, not PDFs in the computer.  Everywhere mountains of paper, paper, paper.  The accounting records are on physical paper in filing cabinets.  The boss's desk has a small clear space around his keyboard surrounded by stacks of paper and binders and whatnot a foot high.  It reminds me of an Alpine village under constant threat of avalanches.  You are constantly running to the printer to pick things up and trying not to accidentally get somebody else's stuff at the same time.  There are at least two people there who do that disgusting thing where they're going through a stack of paper and keep touching their fingertip to their tongue and then using it to pull on the edges of the sheets -- in a stack of paper you will have to handle later.  The boss is a nice guy but I rarely interact with him.  Most of the others are oblivious and have a conversational style that reminds me of those countries where all the drivers seem to think that blowing the horn is what makes the car go.  Spending forty hours every week in this environment doesn't create a good mental state for writing anything worthwhile about Islam or Neptune or movies or whatever.

Of course I know many jobs are much worse than this.  I would never have taken, say, a customer-service job.  But as an example of the kind of office work I've always done, this is among the worst.  And I'm 63 now and thought I was past this stuff for good.

Another oddity is that there seems to be essentially no personalized decoration of work spaces, not even the usual pop-culture stuff like a calendar with kitten pictures or a coffee mug with queen Elsa on it.  Everything is strictly functional.  This is unusual in offices.  I don't know what it says about the people.

Well, I've been there for five weeks now and have eight to go, assuming the three-month figure I was given is correct.  And I need the money.  I suppose I'll survive.  I'm not going to be at my best here on the blog or commenting on yours, though.