filing and C

C… As lovely as she is, she is driving me crazy.

I walked into my office on Friday around 9 am. This was for two reasons:
1) I like to make Fridays a little shorter, and hence allow myself a lie in. It gives me a nice pre-paste of the weekend.
2) I don’t have to join the otherwise unavoidable 08.45 am morning coffee break.

C greeted me with a beaming smile in a very cold office indeed.

My god, what’s wrong with the AC, it's like a freezer in here? I asked.

Oh, your office was so hot I went and turned the heating down for you, she said, rather pleased with her “assistance”.

I couldn’t even be bothered to answer and went and turned it back on again. After all, she is supposed to sit in H’s office down the corridor, and not even be in mine. I could feel my Friday serenity after my nice lie-in rather rapidly turn into annoyance.

It's only the AC, I told myself. She was only trying to be nice. (That particular mantra is becoming as regular in my head as the "it's not their fault they're institutionalized" one...)

I could tell C was dying to tell me something. She looked like a child on Christmas morning, excited to the verge on bursting:

You are a messy little miss, you, she nudged me and stroked my cheek. Your files were in no order when I checked them this morning!

My stomach turned. I actually find myself ridiculously organized - on the verge of autistically so. My files are methodically structured, labelled and well thought-out.

Don’t worry, she said when she saw my alarmed face. I won’t tell. I’ve sorted all your files out in alphabetical order.

I couldn’t even bare to look at her. My files! In alphabetical order?!

C, I said, looking into the floor in fear of punching her if our eyes locked, my files are in WORKING order. Under the first register flap I have work in progress – sorted into times and dates. Under the second one there’s work in need of more custom contact before I can proceed. Under flap three there’s finished work sorted by dates they were finished.

Oh, she said with true disappointment in her voice. Then I noticed a twang of anger in her voice: Well, how was I to know?!

It’s all written down on the index at the front of every file, I sighed.