Why I love my job.

Being trained in for a new job is always fun. It's a nice chance to get to know a new person right off the bat, without the unnecessary awkwardness of being forced to make friends in order to survive as something other than an office hermit.

In most cases, things go great and you become comfortable talking with the person on a friendly basis. Everybody lives happily ever after.

This is not one of those cases.

Today, while learning how to organize and label certain documents within a closing file, my trainer emphasized the importance of color-coding the types of papers in order to simplify things for the rest of the firm. Of course, she didn't say things quite so nicely. Rather, these were her words:

"John, if you were ever to be involved in a car accident on I-94 in which you died, we'd need to know how to fix things in your file. I mean, life goes on."

Thank you Mary, for letting me know that your priority lies not in tending to the family of a person incinerated in a car crash on a major highway, but ensuring that you are at ease knowing that the color-coding scheme has not been disturbed by the inter-office shockwaves of my untimely death.