A month and a half ago, Sriram gave me an assignment. Collect a gazillion data and info from the internet, and arrange them in an Excel Spreadsheet.
I looked at him and wondered if he had even met me. He was actually asking me to create order out of chaos!
Me!
“What Edel?”
“Huh. Nothing.” I mumbled, trying to find a delicate way to express my displeasure at doing anything this methodical and - in columns!
“What’s the matter?”
“Excel’s so stupid. I want to do it in Word” (So much for delicacy)
THAT look illuminated Sriram’s face.
The look of a man who is smitten, addicted and in-love with MICROSOFT EXCEL and who can’t wait to make converts of normal regular folk like me.
He’s like Agent Smith … working for the Matrix.
Over the next 15 minutes he taught me how to fill in rows and columns, how to make a column wider, insert a row, delete a row or a column, color a column or a box …. Well, you get the gist.
So I start.
Oh Help!
Somehow, my laptop manages to NOT explode – or bulge - at the seams even though my spreadsheet is truly spread over a large area. Hmmmm. Wouldn’t it be great if that were the case with pastries and waistlines.
FAST FORWARD TO TODAY
Me (Whimpering and raking my fringe frantically): It’s all …. [Making random motions with my hands]
Sriram aka Agent Smith: What happened?
Me: I added new updates and now all the columns are …. [Making random motions with my hands]
Shreeram (Picking up the scissors from my pen stand): Mind if I borrow this for a minute Edel?
Me (WHAT’S HE GOING TO DO WITH THAT? Stab me because I messed-up my Excel sheet??!!): Huh? Sure. (GULP – you can never tell what’s going to happen in the Matrix)
Shreeram proceeds to use my scissors to cut swatches of giant cellotape to do some DIY patchwork on the office wall-to-wall carpet.
We may be poor, but we are ingenious.
(Gloria Gaynor started to sing, “I will survive” inside my head)
Koman pops by.
Koman: Excel is so easy and such a useful tool.
Me (Gee Koman, don’t worry about hurting MY feelings. I have a lot of emotional fortitude): Show off.
Koman: Let me send you a sheet I did a few years ago so you’ll understand.
Me (Wow, kick me some more when I’m down, why don’t you?) Screaming: No I don’t want to see it, you Show-off.
However, Koman will NOT be stopped. He yells from his booth that he’s mailed me his, ‘Oh-Look-At-Me-Koman’s-Perfect-And-Flawless-Excel-Sheet’.
Office Outlook’s on my side though and his mail gets lost in the ether between our desks.
[Gulp. Matrix?]
Being Catholic, I immediately feel guilty for feeling so smugly happy. Moreover, because I’m Catholic and therefore must self-flagellate, I walk over to his booth and ask him to show me, ‘The-Wonder-That-Is-Koman’s-Excel-Sheet’ ….. which he’s only too eager to share. And for the next 10 minutes, he proceeds to try and explain to me how rows and rows and rows and rows of numbers can be very ‘exciting’ to look at. Matrix 101 (“I know what you're thinking, 'cause right now I'm thinking the same thing. Actually, I've been thinking it ever since I got here: Why oh why didn't I take the BLUE pill?” – I’m WITH you Cypher)
Walking back to my booth, completely and thoroughly humbled by a few columns and rows, I yell, “This is obviously designed by a man! No wonder it makes NO sense!”
The staff of SYNAMEN choose to not-reply.
Because, “Unfortunately no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.”
