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Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Back In Bank

There is an issue with the system where someone can see both my old identity and my new contractor identity. The old one does nothing, and is shut down. Yet it adheres to the standards everyone uses (first name, period, last name at bank dot net). The new one is id-number at bank dot net, which even I can't remember yet. I keep typing my old ID in accidentally.

I'm sitting four rows of cubes away from my old spot, but took the liberty of grabbing my old chair, copystand, and whiteboard. I went to the supply area to reclaim one of at least fifty staplers, one of which is my old one, but which one I have no idea. Yes, Office Space fans - they are Swinglines. It's a running joke about the drawer packed to the rim with Swinglines belonging to now-downsized employees. It's like extinguished torches on Survivor or stone tools in caves long empty.

There’s an Alan Parsons song called “The Three of Me” that seems appropriate these days (below). It’s basically about someone with multiple personalities, who isn’t quite sure if there are actually three of him or one, and how confusing it all is for himself and those around him. Looking at the words, I wonder if it means that there are three personalities, two of whom get it, and one who doesn't quite understand and keeps expecting the other two to show up.

As for being back at the bank, so much is the same and different concurrently, like that show Sliders I never watched. I keep thinking “this makes me feel like a ghost”, but I really don’t know what a ghost feels like. If I ever became a ghost, I’d probably think “this is like when came back to [the bank]”.

As for the bank's name, ten more months before I can say publicly where I am. Or who I am. In theory I could say one or the other, but since I'm far more likely to say who than where, I'll keep my legal obligations in mind.

The Three Of Me
[Pack/Powell]

There's a voice on the phone
Who just called in to say
"Mr. Jones isn't home
He'll be gone for the day"

So he pulls down the blind
To adjust his disguise
But it's all in his mind
Which he proudly denies

I turn the boat back from the weir
Where to go from here
I can't hide from each face I see
Looking out from behind them is me

I'm attempting to guess
What they meant when they said
"Mr. Jones and his guest
Won't be using the bed"

So if I take the rap
While they stay out of sight
I can spring from the trap
When the timing is right

One minute I think I know what I mean
The next I hear voices inside disagree
Why are they laughing at me?

So I pick up the phone
Someone's asking of me
Is the real Mister Jones
Mister One, Two or Three?

So I say that they're not
But it's not as I say
'Cos they're all that I've got
And I can't get away

As Alice waves us through the glass
Are we home at last
For tomorrow they'll be here you see
Locked away safe inside there with me

'Cos tomorrow they'll be here you'll see
Locked away safe inside they're with me

One minute I think I know what I mean
The next I hear voices inside disagree
Why are they laughing at me?

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