Well, I mentioned that two coworkers died yesterday. One was on his way in from the airport, just arriving. The other was on her way back in the same car on an errand. We've got a skeleton crew here for the holidays, so guess who got picked to be the level-headed guy to help inventory her personal effects?
Today's day at work was easily the most uncomfortable thing I've done as part of a job in my entire life. I was in a way honored I guess to do it, and I was happy to be part of the process, in a situation like this I'll help anyway I can, don't get me wrong ... but it's just so wrong in so many ways. We violated her personal space; I reduced her life here to an inventory spreadsheet; we boxed her effects to be next opened by her parents... It all had to be done, and we treated it with the solemness and care it deserved, yet I feel like I need a shower.
No word yet as to when I'm out of here, my enthusiasm for this project ebbs.