Stuffing Envelopes Ain't Half Bad!

It was a warm November morning back in 1998. Chelsea had worn a cardigan to work but felt compelled to take it off and hang it casually over the back of her ergonomically designed computer chair. The air conditioning was not working and she had a hangover. She was not looking forward to stuffing envelopes all day and as a result, she was not keen to start her job. Her employer was a man named Damien Tate. He had originally started his own business and worked from home until the workload overwhelmed him. He hired Chelsea and rented an office in the city. Damien was a generous boss and a nice guy, but Chelsea did not plan on making ‘envelope stuffing’ her long term career. She had other plans.

Chelsea sat behind a grey Formica-top desk. On top of the desk were three piles of paper in various sizes and colours. Beside her chair was a cardboard box full of dark yellow manila envelopes. It was Chelsea’s job to stuff each pre-addressed envelope with a personalised letter, a hard copy of an invoice and a promotional flyer. The packages would then be picked up by a courier who would deliver them to individual clients. Although this was not the ideal occupation for Chelsea, it would tide her over until she was ready to take the plunge and work at home in her own business.

Chelsea thought it was a good time to start work as Damien approached. “Hi Chelsea,” he smiled, “How’s my favourite little envelope stuffer going? You don’t look so hot.”
“I’m hung-over but don’t worry. I’ve been stuffing envelopes for so long I’m sure I could do it in my sleep.”
“Well, let’s not find out. It’s vital that these packages are ready for delivery this afternoon.”
“I’m on it boss!” she saluted.
“That’s my girl. You really are my favourite employee at the moment. Did you realise that?” he winked.
“Well, I am your only subordinate after all,” Chelsea smiled.
“Shut up and get to work!” he screamed. He was joking.

Damien walked back to his office and Chelsea started stuffing envelopes like there was no tomorrow. Her fingers were an absolute blur as she grabbed each document and slid it into the welcoming pouch. The only real danger in her profession was the occasional paper cut. After a couple of hours of embracing her task she had managed to create a large bundle of completed envelopes, and felt she had deserved a doughnut and coffee break. She stood up and made her way to the lunch room.

Damien was already there, removing some sloppy brown concoction from the microwave. As he spooned the first fork-full into his mouth, Chelsea felt like vomiting but managed to restrain herself. She was carrying a brown paper bag containing two chocolate iced doughnuts and a small carton of coffee flavoured milk. Damien wiped some excess gravy from the side of his mouth and asked, “How do you feel now, after stuffing envelopes all morning?”

“Much better thanks smart arse!” Chelsea sniggered, “I don’t know what I like least about this job. The fact that my boss thinks he’s a comedian or the fact that the duties I’m forced to undertake are so boring.”
“Shut up and get back to work!” he wasn’t joking.

Chelsea finished stuffing all of the envelopes with over two hours to spare. She started day dreaming about establishing her own business and working from home. The thought of not commuting into the city every day made her feel both warm and fuzzy (that could also have been due to the broken air conditioning). She regretted not listening to her vocational adviser more when she was still at school. She sat there and wished she had taken her father’s advice and obtained a trade and secured her livelihood with a traditional profession.

At five o’clock the whistle blew and Damien told Chelsea to put on her cardigan and go home. As she was driving back to the suburbs she was delayed by road work men. She sat there in her hot car, watching the lollypop guy leaning against his sign and talking into his walkie-talkie. Suddenly, stuffing envelopes didn’t seem like such a chore anymore. She smiled to herself as he spun his sign around. The word ‘slow’ was printed on it. He gestured for her to drive around and drive around she did.

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