I shuffle through the stack of papers. I sort them according to client, then I head over to the filing cabinets to finish the job.
The drawers rattle and rumble as I open and close them, moving efficiently when the compartments are in order. I hit a groove and complete half of the pile quickly.
I reach the Silver Crossing sheaf. I select a drawer, slide it open, and start thumbing through the S group. I remember we have a dedicated space for this client, so I halt and move over to that cabinet.
I sneeze as I access that drawer. The accordion folders bulge with full individual files, obscuring the tabs. I locate the one I will need to pull out. I try to lift it, but it won’t budge.
I roll up my sleeves and get serious. I take a stance and dead lift the entire accordion file from the drawer. I place it on the floor and squat next to it to pluck out my particular Silver Crossing account. The extra space works to my advantage, and I slide my papers into the account folder before I wedge it back into the big folder.
The office dog walks past me, wagging her tail and heading in the direction of her dog bed.
I take a breath and heave the accordion file on top of the cabinet. The phone rings. I answer it, transfer the call, and come back to stare down my opponent.
I grasp the other files in the drawer and push them back to create enough space for the bloated file. I wrestle with it, maneuvering for the leverage needed to force it back down. Gravity wins before I have to break out the People’s Elbow, and the whole thing thumps as it hits the bottom of the drawer. Takedown.
I smile and go on to the next bunch of papers, making a mental note to create more dedicated space for Silver Crossing. No one wants to wrestle file folders for a living.
Adventures in Low Vision 