Iris29 Feature

Waking up to the arrogant, obnoxious sound of the alarm first thing in the morning makes it that much harder to get out of bed. As I lie in my queen size bed, I reach over and slam my heavy hand down on the eminent snooze button. Like every morning, I turn over and take my first glance of the alarm with my half-opened, dreary eyes. 7:10 a.m. As I lie there, I begin pondering my day. Must shower first—haven’t in two days; 8:30 a.m. appointment with the bank to discuss a possible mortgage; then off to work. I look at the clock again, 7:19 a.m. Time to shower.

I towel myself off and glance at the inch thick dust resting on the five year old scale underneath the bathroom sink. It’s been two weeks since I started a weight loss program, and Thomas did recommend testing the scale to see what progress I’ve made. As I dry off I make sure not to leave an ounce of excess water on my body. I take a deep breath and step on to the scale. I wait for a minute before gaining the courage to look down. Slowly, I tilt my head towards the numbers on the scale. I squint one eye open in hopes that the shock won’t be so bad if only one eye catches the first two numbers on the face plate of the scale. One… thirty… nine! 139 pounds! I’ve gained three pounds since I’ve started this stupid program. Oh great! Gravity now knows me as the 139 pound woman it needs to pull to earth. How did I gain so much in two weeks? No lunch for me today. Only a few carrots, if I’m lucky. I glance at the clock again. 8:02 a.m. Great, now I’m running late!

As I get into the car, I place my bag next to me on the passenger seat and a piece of folded paper falls onto the floor. I reach down and notice the License Renewal title at the top of the page. Oh, I need to renew my license. I should do that after the bank. Why does the government need to know if I am the same person every five years? They don’t even know me. I’m just a number driving a car to them. 8:15 a.m. I turn on the car and it takes a few chugs before the engine turns over. I glance over at the gas gauge. Empty, again! Great. Now I’m really going to be late.

As I pull into the gas station at the corner of the street, "I grab my wallet and begin to sort through the fifteen methods of payments available to me. Mastercard, Visa, AMEX, HBC, Debit, but of course, no cash."

Since when did plastic become the hot item for payment these days? What ever happened to good old cash? With cash, no one can track you down, you don’t need to sign anything or remember a PIN, and it can’t be swiped and then stolen by the person behind you in line because you didn’t cover up the PIN pad while paying and trying to remember which card you chose in the first place. Yet, here I am with no cash.

As I sit in the waiting room of the bank’s main office downtown, I glance around the room at my surroundings. A piece of paper nailed to the wall on my right grabs my attention. “When meeting with a Staff Member, please have available your Social Insurance Number, Bank Number, any major Credit Card Numbers, and, if necessary, any Loan Numbers.” Seriously, how many numbers do people have? Why do we need all that information just to talk to a human being? Do they not want to know my name? Do they not want to know how I speak or where I live? Or are they just concerned with a number that makes me the 7,568,810th (or so) customer of their bank? And just as I’m thinking how impersonal our world has become, I hear. "Number 15! That's me. Number 15. The 15th person to enter the bank this morning. I'm not Carrie Jenkins, I'm number 15!"

As I walk out of the bank, I crumple up the piece of paper that separated my individuality from a lousy number. I glance at the time, 9:50 a.m. I head across town to the local registration office to renew my license. As I’m waiting in line, I reach for a License Renewal Form and begin to fill out the tedious details. Name—finally, someone actually cares about my true identity. Birthdate—I begin to write May 23, 1980, when I realize the form only leaves room for number characters rather than letters. You have to be kidding me! Since when did using the alphabet become so time consuming? Why does EVERYTHING have to be in numbers? "Driver's license number, social insurance number, address, phone number, alternate phone number, it doens't stop!"

I glance up at the clock again. 10:20 a.m. Already an hour and a half late for work.

Twenty minutes later, I finally begin the drive down the same familiar path to the office I’ve called work for almost five years. But this time I find myself taking notice of the hundreds of numbers I pass on my way. Eye Clinic—local phone number, toll free phone number, fax number, address number… it never stops! Why do people need so many contact numbers? If everyone just had ONE number to be reached at, the world would be a lot less hectic! I pull into work and park at my usual number 32 parking space. Yes, that’s me, parking space number 32! I walk into work and announce a polite “hi” to the receptionist as I pass her desk. I stop in front of the Chronos clock on the wall and swipe my employee card. I glance at the screen to be sure the machine read my card. “Thank you employee 6030. Have a great day.” Employee 6030. If only it read, “Thank you Carrie Jenkins. Have a great day.” But I guess it would take up too much space to display the full name.

As I walk back to my desk, I take a peek at the clock one last time before beginning my day. 11:00 a.m. and already I have been 139 pounds to gravity, 7,568,810th customer of the bank, the 15th person to visit the bank today, parking space number 32, and employee number 6030. Not only that, but I have also glanced at the clock seven times in under four hours, written down six different numbers to prove my identity in this country, chosen between four different credit cards, been subjected to hundreds of numbers while driving to work, and now I sit at my desk and realize that being an accountant just makes it that much more believable that no matter who we are or where we go, numbers are always right ahead of us!

Sources

http://articles.moneycentral.msn.com
http://www.cbc.ca
http://books.google.com/
http://www.servicecanada.gc.ca/en/about/reports/ar_0506/highlights.shtml