Burning Bush  

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But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
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   Thursday, February 28, 2002
Truly, there can be no greater rejoicing over a lost sheep that has returned home than by a quality engineer who has found a missing bit of paper - especially when the carefully documented paper trail shows that he was the last person to have held it. I'm inclined to think that the tighter the document control system, the more explosively things will go wrong. Damn it! I carefully put the paper with its peers in a pleasant little folder, albeit in a horribly dark cupboard. The paper could chat with everyone else, even dance the samba if it wanted (there was enough room in the folder). But, instead, it sneaks out when I turn my back and heads off to someone else's desk and buries itself under some paper which isn't often looked at. Still, it turned up, that's the main thing. For a paperless office, I'm drowning in the stuff. Though, at least, I turn unwanted stuff into jotting pads, though I sometimes wonder if what's left on one side is more interesting than what I write ...?