Paper Work

This morning, I had an interesting run-in with Kamal, a cashier at my local 7-eleven. I was getting my coffee and doughnut (I know, bad Elly), and a gatorade to counteract the t00-much-wine last night, and he asked me, "Are you going to work?" Still wearing my heels and nylons from last night, yes, it probably looked as though I was going to work. I said, "I am working from home today." He laughed and said, "Free, right?"

This is where the conversation proceeded to break down. I thought "working from home" was self-evident. I work in an office, and one day a week (most weeks), I get to work from home. I have a long commute (26 miles each way), so working from home saves me a bit of money and saves the planet a tiny bit.

"Free, right?" Well, no, I'm not free. I have to work. So I say, "No, not today. I have to work."

"Work at home is free, right?"

"No, I get paid," I say cautiously...

"It's not free?"

"Well, freer than ususal"... meaning I get to wear my pajamas all day and can turn on a movie in the background--I'm not free to do that at the office. I still can't parse where he's going with this--what was probably meant to be lighthearded cashier banter.

Kamal gives me a strange look. "Two free days to work at home."

Ooooh, I get it. He means the weekend. I think? "No, I work in an office, but they let me work at home one day a week. They pay me, but I have to work."

He looks VERY confused, then says, "Paperwork?"

I'm not about to try to explain my job to him, so I just nod and say, "Yes, paperwork. I write." I thank him for the coffee and head home.

During the rest of my walk, I start to think about our conversation. This is not the first time I've had a conversation with Kamal during which we were both talking about different things. I finally concluded that when I said work at home, he must have thought I mean housework, which is, of course, unpaid.

When he said paperwork, I suppose that is how he differentiates labor work from office work. It's kind of funny (or pathetic) how so many of us folks with office jobs complain about the "work." It's not work, really. It's certainly not breaking rocks or digging ditches (which I spent 10 days doing over the summer...more on that later). It's not standing on your feet all day dealing with assholes at the 7-eleven. It's shuffling papers. It's paperwork.

It's thin, it's flimsy, it's light. It's paper work.