Day One

Today (Wednesday, 4/19) is Day One of Linda’s foray with the tiny West Bloomfield post-office; in other words the first day she has the place to herself.
She has to open up, open the safe, sort mail into 300 post-office boxes by 10 a.m., and then appear knowledgeable about the 89 bazilyun services the post-office offers.
(Quite a few of those 300 boxes aren’t rented. And a lot of what goes in them is junk. In fact, the customers are upset there isn’t a blue-box.)
She also has to file two extremely important reports online, into a ‘pyooter-system that is cantankerous at best (must be a PC). I think the system still hasn’t disgorged her secret employee password after numerous tries. (OHHHHMMMMMMMMMM.......)
And woe unto you if you don’t file those reports. Angry phone-calls ensue, and heads roll.
She’s hoping her first day will be quiet — and probably it will; since yesterday was tax-day.
Cue almighty Bluster-King. Even though Linda is collecting the same Social Security as me, and only makes $36 (yes, $36) a week, she’s not a freeloader. (That $36 a week makes her a viable contributor to the vast national economy; yes-sir-eee.)
And unlike mine, Linda’s Social Security is not a gumint handout.
No matter I contributed to S.S. for years, so that others could retire, I’m now a freeloader — utterly despicable as usual.
Perish-the-thought; I think the real freeloader is the one collecting a bloated six-figure salary for fiddling Flag-Out. —The one who zapped the entire Exelon database.