Why we’re stressed

Continuing on with this weeks theme….


…it’s insanity to think that 1 person can do the job of 25 for years without taking a roller coaster ride over the bell-curve of crazy.

Excuse my pseudo-schizophrenia, but I can hear you saying it now, “Where did she get that idea?”

I worked in a business that was started in 1910.  When I took a part-time accounting job in the early 1980’s (before I knew what dyslexic meant), it was 5 years before the Commodore 128.  commodore 128

You’re probably wondering what that dinosaur looked like.  It took 5 inch floppy disks (when they really were floppy) and held up to 15 pages.  It was the first time in my life that I didn’t have to re-type an entire page just because of a few mistakes.

Now that you have some understanding of that era, I’ll tell you a bit of history about the accounting job.  My children were 1 1/2 and 3 1/2.  Yes, I loved my children, but I had little in common with the other stay-at-home mothers in the neighborhood, nor did I want my children to grow up around kids who were vying for the title of Future F#$&-ups of America.  And I only wanted a job 2 days a week so that I could partake in some intelligent conversation that didn’t include the latest dirt on famous people.  

My 2nd husband said, “Sure.”  

That’s because he thought I’d never find one.  

The war that occurred after I landed the job is best left for another post.

How did I get so lucky?  One of the women who had worked at the business for decades wanted to work 3 days a week instead of taking full retirement.  No one else wanted the 2-day-a-week job that was left over.

I located a day care that didn’t have a TV, one that cost almost what I was making for the 2 days.  But the point was to get us out of the house.

The days and hours were perfect for me.  What didn’t I know?  I was about to enter an environment Pavlov would’ve loved.

My BAID (My, but alas I digress).  Back to the monster computer.  The keyboard array reminded me of an organ without the pipes.  The disks were 2 feet across and had to be “squashed.”  I worked 8 hours a day on Thursday and Friday, the last hour or so was spent entering information into the computer.  When I made a mistake, it went, “!!!!!DING!!!!!

It was guaranteed to drive any dyslexic crazy, along with anyone in the office with her.

How did that make me feel?

Image from Photobucket

Image from Photobucket

But, hey, the job paid what I needed to make in order to cover child care, gas, and a bit of money I could call my own.

There were 4 employees in the office area.  The one who managed the factory also served as computer overlord.  One day he told me that a few years before I arrived there were 25 employees.  The computer and key punch machine eliminated most of their jobs.

key punch

The key punch, a lot like voting cards in 2004, without the hanging chads and a lot more accurate.

That technology, now considered ancient, is like comparing the Wright brother’s first airplane


with a military cargo transport,


So then, if

4 people + 1 part timer with early computer technology  = 25 people

it isn’t a stretch of the imagination to understand that 1 person + 1 21st century computer is capable of crunching the same information into a concentrated mass of data with what’s available on the market today.

I love the fact that I don’t have to use a quill and parchment or pen and ledger paper to create a spread sheet.  But I do recognize that the human brain was meant to forage, avoid predators, hunt prey and live in a forest.   We were not meant to live in a concrete jungle deluded to the point where we’d think there’s a benign animal in the universe called “safety.”

So then, what drives me to the brink of fractalling Nutzoidal?  Airports.   If you haven’t already read it, you can find that post at