Just a Regular Regulator

For those of you who have never had my job (which by my count is most of you), here's pretty much how it goes:

Step 1: Fill out a report.
Step 2: Send said report in to whatever commission claims to want it.
Step 3: Never hear about that report again.

If you think this is more than a little bleak, you'd be right. However, this is much more preferable when compared to hearing about reports again, because generally that means that I have done something wrong, which means more work. As any third grader will tell you, extra work is to be shunned at all costs, even if it means committing yourself to a lifetime of futility. However, I feel that I am in good company as I look at classical literature, and I feel my kinship to Sisyphus who is forever pushing that rock up the hill.

But on the upside, there's free yogurt.

For some reports there is a fourth step: request a check from our accounts payable department. This is an adventure in itself as they are very discriminating in the types of background information on the check requests they will accept. This is generally a good thing as it keeps fraud to a minimum, but so help you if you have a legitimate request and you cannot find the right backup information. Many tears have been shed over this. Nevertheless, sometimes, sometimes, you can earn a small victory, and, children, I will relate this heroic tale.

Book 1.
This is in the time of when
There were no giants, only men,
Men who wiped their eyes to see,
Men not unlike your dear A.C.

A payment due, but where to send?
The commission's office will not lend
To A.C. the time of day, as if to say,
"Good luck, my friend, let come what may!"

In tears and anger, he searched the net,
Google searching, for to get
The precious info that he needed,
His patience, like his hair line, had receded.

But what is this? What luck! What ho!
He found the department to where the check should go
But would A.P. accept this printing without an address?
A.C. said a prayer, and scanned the pdf.

Book 2.
He bit his nails as he clicked send,
Was this where his path would end?
Could he now work on things worthwhile
Or be condemned to look for this thing impossible to find and vile?

A minute passed, and then two more,
A hush swept over his part of the floor,
He pulled up some other work to do,
Confident this check would be paid as due.

But then, a note by electronic mail,
"Without the address, you have failed,
We cannot let this money pass through our gate
Without an street name, number, and state."

Book 3.
He wiped his eyes and clenched his teeth
And thought, unkindly, "What's your beef!?"
But he knew that with his time he must be frugal,
And so, unhappily, he returned to google.

He'd search by department name, yes, that's the ticket,
But no result had an address! Ah! A thorny thicket!
So he searched again with quotation marks
For a more specific search, and, Hark!

To this commission, pay this price!
But without address, oh, that's not nice!
He searched more times, up to five, up to seven,
All results without addresses, so help him heaven!

He changed the search terms, then what was in quotes
Why could the internet not find what he wrote?
He expanded search results, then decompressed,
Until he found it, he could not rest.

Book 4.
He tried every set of words it could be under
Until, by happenstance, he thought to wonder,
"What of these pdf search results? I've looked at most,
I think, but maybe not at all. If not there, I'm lost!"

Pdf one, no address, the same for pdf two,
And three through twelve were no help too.
He was about to draft his resignation letter,
When he saw one last link, similar to the rest, but maybe better.

He scrolled down through, looking like the same texts, it
Had the same words, and he was about to "x" it,
When a new page appeared, one he hadn't seen before,
One with an address! Hurrah! His quest was over.

He nearly screamed, his fists shot up
His neighbors must have thought he'd mixed up
His day job with some sort of football game,
But the excitement he felt was exactly the same.

He emailed it over, it was accepted,
He thought, "These past six hours excepted,
I've had a pretty good little run."
And he resigned himself to something more fun.

That's all I've got folks.

P.S.: If you're interested, these are almost exactly like my job:

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Bureaucrat's Song
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Futurama	Weeknights, 9p/8c
Bureaucrat's Joy
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